


Remainders

by breakingamber



Category: Parahumans Series - Wildbow, RWBY
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, Anti-Faunus Racism (RWBY), Bullying, Canon-Typical Violence, Depression, F/F, Gen, don't worry; it gets better, eventually
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-06
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:28:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 36,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25748908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/breakingamber/pseuds/breakingamber
Summary: Remainders is a Worm/RWBY fusion where the Undersiders and several other teenaged capes are attending Beacon Academy together. Taylor will struggle with basic social interaction, Lisa will be smug, and Ozpin will be mysteriously mysterious.This story requires quite a bit of RWBY knowledge, though it probably doesn't require much Worm knowledge.If you enjoyed this fic, please leave a comment! If you didn't enjoy, leave a comment anyway! I always appreciate them. Feedback is one of the best ways for me to improve, and I always want to improve.Cross-posted from Spacebattles.
Relationships: Lily | Flechette | Foil/Sabah | Parian
Comments: 13
Kudos: 31





	1. Taylor Monot

_Dear Ms. Monot,_

Taylor stared at the letter in her hand.

_We have decided to accept your application to Beacon Academy._

She couldn’t believe it.

_We have reviewed your testing footage and found your performance up to our standards._

She hadn’t truly believed she had any chance of getting into Beacon. It had always been nothing more than a far-off pipe dream. She’d never been to a combat school, never had any professional training. 

_Additionally, we were quite impressed during your interview._

Sure, she’d used the idea of attending the prestigious Huntsman academy as a motivator, to keep going out and practicing in the woods, usually against Grimm, rarely just against trees. Used it to keep herself sane on those days when life became too much to bear on her too-fragile shoulders. When Emma struck a particularly vulnerable nerve with her japes, when Sophia rubbed her own Beacon application in her face, when she failed to turn in yet another assignment.

_We think you show much promise._

Deep down, she’d always known she had no chance. No luck. No hope. Until she did.

_The airship departs for orientation, followed by initiation, on April 10th at 5:00 PM._

That was tomorrow.

_Attendance is mandatory._

A thought struck her like a baton to the back of her head. She hadn’t told her father. Anything. He thought she was only going to the library or using other excuses during her daily practice sessions. She was going to have to tell him if she was going to go to Beacon. Dread filled her at the thought.

_We believe we have found a hard-working and earnest young Huntsman in you._

Or… she could just… not? 

_I am looking forward to seeing you at Beacon._

Mind made up, she reached for a pencil, a blank sheet of paper - she couldn’t find one, so she instead ripped off the bottom half of a random school assignment and used that instead - and scribbled out a letter. About a hundred words. She tried to imbue the words with truth and feeling, wasn’t sure if she succeeded. Retrieved some tape, went into her father’s bedroom - he wasn’t home, at work instead - attached the letter to his pillow, made sure that he’d see it. Gathered her meager savings, her weapons, some clothes, her notebooks. Then she walked out the door.

_Sincerely,_

_Headmaster Ozpin_

* * *

Lisa stepped onto the airship, face set in a stony, neutral expression. She had given her bags to the attendant, though she kept her weapons holstered at her sides. She examined the crowd, internally wincing at the lurid, unique outfits of the Huntsmen-to-be. She understood the reasoning for them, yes - it made them stand out more in large crowds and allowed them to take charge of situations during Grimm attacks - but that didn’t make them any less obnoxious to look at. Her own garish outfit was among the more subdued ones, a tacky purple and black thing.

She frowned when she noticed the exception. A young girl, dressed in a drab gray hoodie and faded blue jeans, curly black hair only barely visible, was hunched over near the back of the airship. It was as if she was hiding, even though her lack of distinctive outfit actually made her stand out _more_ , her ordinariness turned extraordinary. Like a lone pinky finger on a hand where the rest of the digits had been lost to frostbite.

Lisa looked closer. She didn’t need her Semblance to conclude that the girl’s family was poor. Her hoodie was covered in faint stains and her jeans had holes at the knees that probably weren’t intentional. Her sneakers, likely previously colorful, were now painted only in dull shades of gray. The sheath on her side looked handmade, as did the handle of the knife coming out of it. A small bulge on her back indicated an additional weapon. 

Lisa wasn’t sure what her deal was, though she wanted to be. She considered using her Semblance, rationalizing the decision with the knowledge that initiation would likely be tomorrow, and thus she had plenty of Aura to spare for today. 

Eventually, a surge of common sense hit her and she decided to just ask the other girl. Lisa pasted a grin on her face and walked over in front of the girl. She didn’t even notice, head bowed down, until Lisa stuck her hand out in front of her chest, open to shake.

“Hi! I’m Lisa. Lisa Greene. What’s your name?”

The black-haired girl blinked in surprise, then hesitantly took Lisa’s hand and shook it delicately, as if she were holding a very full glass of water. “Taylor Monot. Nice to meet you.”

“Whatcha doing here?” The handshake was still going on and Lisa detached her hand from Taylor’s.

“Um… nothing.” Taylor put her own hand down.

Lisa plopped down in the seat next to the girl, putting her arms behind her back, acting as if she hadn’t a care in the world. “No, I mean, what’re you doing going to a top Huntsman academy like Beacon? You that good?”

“Uhhh…”

Taylor’s face suddenly went paler than usual, having seen something she was clearly afraid of. Lisa followed her gaze.

A dark-skinned girl was stomping over to them, her face contorted in an angry snarl. A folding crossbow-wrist blade combination weapon was mounted on her wrist and another strapped to her back. Her outfit was primarily black — heavy black cloak, black shirt underneath, black leggings, black boots, with highlights of silver around her wrists and on her chest. Her brown eyes glared at Taylor hatefully as she stopped right in front of her, too close for comfort.

“What the fuck are you doing here, Monot? This airship is going to a school for _warriors_ , for _Huntsmen_. You don’t belong here, you _queef_. Did you sneak in?”

Lisa wasn’t sure how the girl could’ve shrunk back any further, but Taylor somehow managed it. Weakly, she tried to reply, “I-I passed the tests just like you did…”

“Yeah, right. You’re a loser, Monot. You’re a coward, a rat, and a nerd. Nobody wants to be around you. You should scurry back off to the hole you came from. Go on, the ship hasn’t left yet.”

Taylor didn’t respond.

Lisa couldn’t bear to watch this any further. She opened her mouth, activated her Semblance, let the information flow in. “So, who the fuck are you?”

_Angry; wants to feel superior._

_Fellow classmate of black-haired girl, hates weakness, expensive and elaborate outfit; well-off._

_Valean, physically fit, exercises often, crossbow held confidently; good fighter._

“Sophia.” The dark-skinned girl’s intense gaze shifted to her, brown eyes locking with her green. Sophia took a step forward, as if to intimidate the blonde. Lisa noticed, and was unaffected.

_Irritation, mild curiosity; wants to know why I’m talking with Taylor._

_Terse, insulting; wants to show dominance._

_Antisocial, aggressive, anger issues; easily-irritated._

_Traits learned from father; hates father._

_Perfect_ , she thought.

Her Semblance was exceptionally useful, providing information and making logical leaps she would’ve been hard-pressed to make on her own. It was amazing for finding the truth and deducing weak points both of Grimm and human adversaries, but it drained Aura at a tremendous speed. She only used it sparingly. A minute of usage was enough to completely drain her Aura reserves. That would leave her defenseless.

“So, why were _you_ accepted to Beacon? Did your daddy buy your way in for you?”

Sophia growled. Lisa kept her grin on her face, not showing a hint of fear.

_Vein popping out on forehead, fists clenched; is going to attack you._

_Clenched fists, athletic, believes conflict is personal, people watching; likely to punch you in the face._

Lisa was prepared for it, but when the punch did come, it was fast enough she only barely had enough time to throw her head to the side, causing the blow to brush her hair and slam into the seat behind her. Simultaneously, Lisa drew her pistol, Tattle, whirled around, and pressed it against the back of Sophia’s head.

The dark-skinned girl froze.

Taylor had risen from her seat in the fraction of a moment it had taken for the exchange to occur, weapon in hand - a grey collapsible baton, from the looks of it. Lisa let her power linger on it for just a moment.

_Mechashift, barrel on top; rifle mechanism._

_Scuffed, dented, store-brand, store does not sell mechashift weaponry, not forged; home-modified._

Lisa would’ve whistled if she weren’t trying to project a certain unflappable image here. If Taylor had really built that thing almost from scratch, that was impressive. Mechashift weaponry was no joke, requiring tons of maintenance and calibration. There was clearly more to this girl than met the eye. 

Her train of thought was interrupted by Sophia suddenly turning into a smoky-black cloud, passing through her and slugging her in the back of the head. Lisa stumbled forward into the wall, caught by surprise. Her Aura absorbed the damage the blow would’ve done, but the force still applied.

Sophia followed the punch up with a kick to the back of the shin, causing Lisa to fall to one knee. Next thing she knew, something cold, metal, and pointy was pressed to the back of her head, smushing it against the seat cushion. Sophia’s gruff laughter filled the air. Her knee pressed against Lisa’s back.

“Guess you aren’t so tough now, are you, bitch?”

Her arms were trapped against the seat at an awkward angle, preventing her from using her weapons to fight back. She couldn’t talk; her mouth was pressed into the seat and anything she said would just come out as muffled gibberish. She needed to be able to see to use her Semblance, and right now all she could see was cushion. Not to mention that her Aura was already lower than she would like; about half-depleted, if she had to guess. She didn’t know if Sophia’s crossbow bolt would shatter her Aura and kill her if she fired it; she didn’t know whether Sophia herself knew that, though she was pretty sure she wouldn’t care either way.

“Don’t talk smack to your betters. Try that again and I’ll put a bolt between your eyes. Got it? Nod if you understand and maybe I’ll let you go.”

“Hey!”

A smacking sound of metal hitting skin, and then the pressure from behind was gone. Lisa flipped herself over, drew her other pistol, and took in the scene before her.

Sophia had reeled back, hand to her cheek. Taylor had stood up, and was now staring at the black-cloaked girl, expression somewhere between pride and shock. Her baton was slightly outstretched, other hand clutching the knife she’d just unsheathed. 

Sophia snarled, taking a fighting stance. “You’ll pay for that, Monot.”

Taylor frowned. “Make me.”

Lisa chimed in, walking to Taylor’s side, “I agree with Taylor over here, Ms. Edgelady. I don’t know what your deal is, but you seem like an ass and a bully. Leave her alone.”

Sophia took a step back, preparing to charge the two of them. Lisa tensed.

Then she tripped over her cloak. Sophia fell backwards, arms flailing wildly in the air, right into someone’s lap. It was a boy, dressed in baggy leggings and a loose-fitting frilled shirt. He looked entirely unperturbed by the girl’s appearance. He shrugged, then plunged a short golden rod, crackling with electricity Dust, into her side, causing her to scream in pain and flail about even more violently. Not long afterward, her spasms caused her to fall to the ground, at which point she went still. 

Someone gasped, but most everybody seemed to ignore the short-lived conflict. The guy with the gold rod - more of a scepter, really - rose to his feet, stretched his arms, then lifted the girl on the ground in a fireman’s carry, exiting the airship.

Lisa turned her Semblance towards him as he left the ship.

_Faking tiredness, thought that was entertaining; bored._

_Found girl obnoxious, disproportionate retribution; no empathy._

_Unsurprised, knew girl would trip, caused girl to trip; Semblance causes clumsiness._

_Semblance doesn’t work on Grimm, skilled in using it, not used to fighting Grimm; tournament champion._

Lisa raised her eyebrows at that. What was a tournament champion doing at Beacon? She needed to do some research. 

“Did you see that?” Taylor had spoken, her voice filled with confusion. 

Lisa looked at Taylor, activating her Semblance for a brief moment, informing her about the other girl.

_Question, confused, low self-confidence, bullying victim; depressed._

_Bullying victim, sad, anxious; suspicious._

_Thinks you are nice, doesn’t know why; wants to know why._

_Fears rejection, too scared to ask; suicidal._

_Huntress-in-training; wants to give her life to help others._

Lisa shut off her Semblance. Stared at Taylor. Felt an acute sense of deja vu. A surge of pity.

The black-haired girl noticed that Lisa had not changed the object of her gaze for ten seconds, nor responded to her question. Fidgeted curiously.

 _Taylor_ , she wondered, _why would anyone do this to you?_

Lisa knew, logically, that she would be better off without the burden of a suicidal, emotional, Huntsman-in-training on her shoulders. That she should really just leave the girl to her own devices, see if she sank or swam by herself. That she shouldn’t tie herself down to this wreck of a girl.

Yet, at the same time, when she looked into Taylor’s dull brown eyes, she couldn’t help but see Rex’s dead ones looking back at her. Accusingly. Spitefully.

_You should’ve known._

Could she really leave this girl in need when she had nothing and no one? 

_Fuck that._

_“The airship is departing in five minutes.”_ The announcement filled the vessel, felt almost like a counter ticking down, whispering to her, ‘ _Make your choice, make your choice.’_

The boy with the scepter strolled back onto the airship, plopped down into a seat and dipped his head down, closing his eyes.

Lisa grinned a wide vulpine grin. “Sorry about that! So, Taylor, you wanna be friends?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a minor twist that will be revealed if I ever hit 'season two', so to speak.
> 
> Taylor's Semblance is Grimm Control. She has a fairly large radius around her, about 2-3 blocks, in which she can sense and take control of Grimm while depleting her Aura at a constant rate. The rate depends on how strong the Grimm is and how many she is controlling, increasing at a flat rate.
> 
> Lisa's Semblance is her more-or-less canon Intuition. She can look at a person and deduce things about them.
> 
> Alec's Semblance is Nerve Control. More or less the same as his supposed canon power. He can't actually permanently Master people though.
> 
> Sophia's Semblance is Shadow Phase. Same as canon, special weakness to electricity, though she has no issues with non-electric things passing through her.
> 
> Thanks to DemiRapscallion and Juff for providing feedback!


	2. The Grue

Taylor’s first instinct was to say no. She’d been burned twice before. Not to mention that Lisa’s smile seemed nearly as predatory as Sophia’s or Emma’s.  
  
On the other hand, a lot of the available evidence pointed towards Lisa being genuine in her request. She’d stood up to Sophia for and with her, even though the blonde should’ve had no idea who Taylor was. Maybe she was just being paranoid?  
  
She was going to have to relearn to socialize eventually. Huntsmen students were put onto four-person teams that would have to learn to work together for years. If she couldn’t even talk to one girl, how would she last the four years of schooling? She might as well go home now.  
  
“Sure, I guess,” Taylor eventually replied, her voice lilting upwards towards the end. With a practiced shake of her wrist, her baton retracted back into a small black tube, which she stored in a pouch at her back. Her knife went back into her sheath. She began sitting down, glanced at Lisa, realized she was still standing, hesitated, not wanting to somehow socially misstep, then sat down anyway.  
  
Lisa followed suit a moment later and Taylor internally let out a sigh of relief. It would suck if she managed to alienate the first friend (?) she met at Beacon. It must have been much less internal than she’d thought because Lisa seemed to notice, chuckling. “Jeez, relax. You look like you’re wound up tighter than a music box.”  
  
Taylor did not let up a bit.  
  
The airship’s doors slid shut. _“The airship is departing now.”_  
  
Lisa shrugged as if to say, ‘what can you do?’ then started talking.  
  
“So, listened to any good music recently? I was listening to this Beige Mcabee song the other day, and I know her Semblance makes her better at singing and all, but it…”  
  
Lisa and Taylor exchanged small-talk throughout the whole trip. Taylor didn’t have much experience with that kind of thing, but Lisa kept the momentum of the conversation up when Taylor flailed. They talked about silly things like books and movies, serious things like weapon design and maintenance (Taylor’s weapons, Sting and Burn, didn’t require much, despite, or possibly because of, their homemade nature). Eventually, the conversation turned towards the two girls’ personal lives, which was the point where things got awkward.  
  
Well, more awkward.  
  
Neither girl was willing to provide details on their personal troubles to someone who was almost a complete stranger. They ended up speaking in generalities, vague statements and complaints about classmates and homework. Eventually, conversation tapered off completely. Lisa got up, wanting to talk to some of the other students. Taylor watched the holographic television screen, which was showing a news channel.  
  
 _“17 people were killed and 64 injured in a confrontation between the Dragon’s Claw and the White Knights last Thursday. The cause of the shootout is unknown, but notorious crime lords Kenta Huolong and Max Steelheart were present.”_  
  
Two photos came up on the screen, side by side. The one on the left depicted a shirtless man wearing an ornate dragon mask. He was about six feet tall. Glowing orange eyes were visible behind the eyeholes of the mask and tattoos of dragons covered his bare chest and arms. The other figure was clad from head to toe in a suit of plate armor. He bore a simple double-edged greatsword, five feet long and a foot wide. It was more of a slab of metal than a sword.  
  
 _“If you encounter these individuals, do_ not _engage, even if you have Huntsman training; they_ have _defeated and killed certified Huntsmen in the past. Instead, please contact the Vale Police Department, who will take appropriate measures to deal with the situation. Back to you, Becky.”  
  
“Thank you, Cyril. In other news, the White Fang attacked several establishments in the city yesterday. These establishments were allegedly…”_  
  
The report was cut off. A middle-aged blond woman appeared on the hologram, hair tied back in a bun and arms clasped behind her back. When she spoke, her voice was sharp and controlled. “ _Hello, and welcome to Beacon. My name is Glynda Goodwitch.”_  
  
Taylor knew who this woman was: deputy headmistress of Beacon Academy and experienced Huntress, second only to the headmaster himself, Ozpin, who was purportedly in a league of his own when it came to fighting Grimm. The people on the airship turned to look at the nearest hologram.  
  
 _“You are among a privileged few who have received the honor of being selected to attend this prestigious academy! Our world is experiencing an incredible time of peace, and as future Huntsmen and Huntresses, it is your duty to uphold it.”_  
  
Taylor couldn’t help but feel a twinge of hatred at that, thinking about Sophia, that _bitch_. How come _she_ got to be Huntress, got all the training she wanted, and used her power to be a… a… bully?  
  
 _“You have demonstrated the courage needed for such a task, and now it is our turn to provide you with the knowledge and the training to protect our world.”_  
  
She looked past the hologram, out the window. Looked back at the city of Vale. She couldn’t see her house.  
  
 _Dad must be so worried right now._  
  
Taylor felt guilty, then. She wanted to dive headfirst off the airship, run all the way home, and tell her father how sorry she was, how she didn’t mean to leave him, how much she loved him.  
  
She had to remind herself that she’d written a letter already. That she could call him from Beacon after orientation and initiation. That she could visit anytime she wanted. That the fall might kill her.  
  
That she really wanted to be a Huntress.  
  
The airship began its descent.  
  


***

  
Brian stood from his seat as the airship landed. He looked to the seat on his left, only to find it was empty. He sighed.  
  
“Aisha.”  
  
When no response was forthcoming, he waved his hand through the air above the cushion, felt it collide with his sister with a quiet _thud_. “Hey!”  
  
“Stop using your Semblance.”  
  
Nothing happened for a moment. Then, a young girl seemed to pop into existence into that seat. It was if she’d been there the whole time, mostly because she had.  
  
Her skin was dark, marking her Vacuan origin. She wore her skintight dark grey bodysuit which highlighted her good looks, as well as a purple scarf around her neck. Two thin scabbards were strapped to her side, one on top of the other. Her black hair had a single purple streak in the middle as well as two small pointy nubs growing out the back of her head. Her smile was full of mischief. Mischief… and hatred.  
  
“Why the fuck are we here, Brian? Look around“—she gestured to the people around her—“ we’re surrounded by fucking racists!”  
  
Brian frowned. “Beacon is the best Huntsman academy in all of Remnant, racists or not. This is an amazing opportunity for you; I wish you’d stop disparaging it. I had to bargain long and hard with the headmaster to let an _underage ex-White Fang Vacuan Faunus_ with _authority issues_ into Beacon. I suspect the only reason you got in is because -”  
  
“I’m so goddamn awesome? Yeah, I already know that. What I want to know is why I _need_ to go to a freaking Huntsman academy! I don’t need to learn how to fight, I’m badass enough as it is!”  
  
“It’s for your own prot -”  
  
Aisha sprang to her feet, hands gesticulating wildly, voice angry. “I don’t _need_ protection! I’ve been doing fine without your help for months! And I didn’t need the help of _human racists_ to do it, either!”  
  
“Aisha… You agreed to at least give this a try!” Brian pleaded. This wasn’t the first time they’d had this discussion, if you could call it that. However, it most certainly was the worst one to date.  
  
"Pardon me, sir and madam, but I noticed you were having an argument? May I help you?"  
  
A human boy, blond-haired and blue-eyed, had walked up to them while they'd been... discussing, and Brian immediately couldn't help but notice the superficial similarities to Steelheart - his suit of chrome metallic armor, mainly, though the crime lord's armor was admittedly a less reflective shade.  
  
Aisha didn’t acknowledge him, only continuing, “I can defend myself better than you can! I’m a better fighter than everyone in this fucking school!"  
  
"I very much doubt that," Brian said, almost reflexively. That was clearly the wrong thing to say, as she started breathing harder, her face scrunched up in anger. Her rant grew to a crescendo of volume: "Fuck off, bro! This was a stupid idea! I never should’ve listened to you!”  
  
Her hand, in its wild flailing, struck the chrome boy's shoulder, sending him stumbling back a step or two and causing the rest of the passengers to give the arguing siblings a wide berth. She didn’t notice, or if she did, she didn't care.  
  
“You know what? I don’t have to do this. Fuck you, fuck Beacon, fuck Ozpin, fuck all of you!”  
  
As she let out her final epithets, she stormed out of the airship, running towards the academy.  
  
“Aisha!” She didn’t ignore her brother. Instead, she did something much worse. She activated her Semblance, rendering her invisible. “Goddammit…”  
  
Brian took a moment to calm himself and say sorry to the people that were now staring at him in confusion and sympathy, giving an extra-profuse apology to the knight in shining armor. Then he dashed off after his sister… or at least, he hoped he did.  
  
Unfortunately, it turned out that chasing an invisible person was… let’s say… mildly difficult. Brian probably had more experience doing that than the vast majority of people, but that still didn’t make it easy. Not being able to see his sister meant he had to track the footprints and other traces she left behind her, and she had gotten pretty good at hiding those. A year of being a stealth specialist in a terrorist organization did that to you.  
  
The end result of this was that Brian ended up winded, sweaty, and tired in an unfamiliar location with nobody around, his sister nowhere in sight. He groaned, running a hand through his hair, rubbing his large ram horns.  
  
Brian took a look at his surroundings. There was a large pond to his right, with lily pads and algae floating on the surface. Some trees dotted the terrace to his left. A path led back towards the skyport, where the airship had landed and where he’d come from.  
  
Aisha probably hadn’t run off too far. She was among humans, after all. She’d probably seek him out or some other Faunus eventually. Additionally, despite her boasts on the airship, she was probably outmatched by most of the professors at Beacon and of only average level of skill for a student - still quite good, mind you. She did have two fewer years of training than most, possibly all, of the students here. Still, that meant Aisha probably wouldn’t pick a fight - she was bratty and rebellious, not stupid. At least, he hoped so.  
  
Speaking of which, Brian was incredibly… irritated… with her. He was mature enough to understand that sometimes you had to do things you didn’t like doing, that you had to deal with jackasses who wouldn’t give you the time of day if they didn’t have to, that you couldn’t join the fucking _White Fang_ just because you wanted that nebulous thing called _equality_. Aisha was only two years younger than him, why couldn’t she understand that? Life was hard, sure, but just because it was a little harder for you than for someone else didn’t give you the right to bomb the fuck out of them!  
  
All of his efforts had been devoted to keeping himself and Aisha alive. He’d done his share of shady things, but that’s what you did in the deserts of Vacuo if you wanted to survive. He’d never hurt anybody for what was essentially _fun_. After he’d managed to land a surprisingly well-paying job as a guard in Vale, he’d had hopes that that would be the end of their troubles. They’d had to move to another continent, sure, but Brian had hoped Aisha had enough common sense and maturity not to freak out too badly.  
  
He was wrong. Culture shock, or something a lot like it, had hit Aisha a lot harder than it had him. Vacuo didn’t have a lot of issues with Faunus rights. All who were able to survive in the desert were treated equally, regardless of race, gender, appearance, or age. Vale, on the other hand, while still supposedly better than Atlas, was not the most tolerant of places. Aisha hated it. The first time the siblings had experienced anti-Faunus discrimination firsthand, his sister had not taken it well, causing a massive scene and forcing the police to get involved.  
  
Brian suspected that was when she’d discovered her Semblance.  
  
They’d gotten into another “discussion” after that. Then another. Aisha called him ‘a sissy’ and Brian insisted that she was being immature and bratty. He pointed out he was working eight hours a day to keep her fed and happy. She accused him of supporting the status quo, whatever that meant. Brian had hoped she was simply going through a phase, that it would be a mere footnote in the life of his sister. And it seemed like it was going to be that way. About two weeks later, Aisha had calmed down, had apologized (somewhat insincerely, but that was par for the course for her). Brian had thought things were going to be alright. 16 months passed.  
  
Then, one evening, she didn’t come home from school. Nor did she show up the next day. He’d called her Scroll, but she didn’t answer. He’d called the faculty on his Scroll, only to learn she hadn’t been attending at all for the last two weeks. He called his employer, used one of his few vacation days, and searched the city. He’d called some of the parents of Aisha’s friends, asked random people on the streets, fought a random dickwad who turned out to be a Knight. His efforts were fruitless. She was nowhere to be found.  
  
As he stumbled home, worried out of his mind, he couldn’t help but wonder where he’d gone wrong. Where _she’d_ gone wrong. Should he have been harsher with her? Spent more time with her?  
  
Not for the first time, he wished his father was still alive. He wasn’t perfect, but anything had to be better than this. His mother could go die in a hole, though. She was the cause of all this.  
  
He’d reentered their apartment, sat down at the table, and buried his head in his hands. The room had been so quiet.  
  
 _A crashing of glass.  
  
“Aisha?”  
  
“Unngh…”  
  
“Aisha? AISHA!”  
  
“Bro…”  
  
“Oh god dammit, fuck… Hang in there, Aisha… fuck, reassuring, reassuring… You’ll be okay, I promise… FUCK!”_  
  
That day, the day Aisha had come in through the window, Aura broken, stomach slashed open, half a White Fang mask on her face… that day had been the worst day of Brian’s life.  
  
He’d patched her up the best he could, removed the Grimm mask from her face, and driven her to the hospital. Luckily, the person on-duty wasn’t a flaming racist and she’d gotten help pretty quickly, staunching the bleeding. Brian had known that, thanks to Aura, she’d probably be fully recovered within a week. He’d been so relieved.  
  
That relief had quickly faded when he’d glanced at a convenient television screen, wanting a distraction from the image of his wounded sister, only to see her face and name splayed out across the screen, along with several others. They were marked as White Fang members.  
  
 _His breath caught in his throat.  
  
Brian tried not to panic. So far, nobody had recognized Aisha. The broadcast had just come out. He had time to fix this.  
  
He pulled out his Scroll and dialed his employer. He picked up after only the second ring.  
  
“Yes?”_ _His employer’s voice was old, but sharp.  
  
“I’m really sorry, but I need to resign and I need a favor. A big one_. _” Brian tried not to let any of the worry and panic show in his voice. Professional.  
  
A moment of silence. “What is it?”  
  
Brian explained quickly, “I just learned that my sister was stupid enough to join the White Fang and now she’s wanted by the police. I need to help her and I need help.”  
  
Silence. Brian began to grow worried that the other man had just hung up.  
  
“You’ve been a good employee, Brian Dusk. I won’t do anything illegal, but I do have a good relationship with the headmaster of Beacon Academy. Try applying to Beacon; I’ll put in a good word for you.”  
  
“Beacon?” Brian failed to keep the surprise out of his voice. “What do you mean? I’m not good enough to be a Huntsman! How would that help Aish - my sister, anyway?”  
  
“Nonsense. I’ve seen you fight the Fang. You’re at least as good as a first-year student, if not better. Also, to answer your second question, the headmaster has quite a bit of power in Vale and tends to make accomodations for prospective students. I think Ozpin might pull some strings to keep your sister out of jail if you show him you can become a good Huntsman.”  
  
“I’m not sure about this…”  
  
Brian’s employer grunted. “You’re welcome to do whatever you’d like, but I believe this is your best option.”  
  
Brian thought about it._  
  
When Aisha had woken, they’d had another… discussion… and, after making their escape from the hospital, eventually decided that there shouldn’t be any issues with Brian going to the interview, though he had also insisted Aisha come along too. She’d complained, but also conceded there was a good reason for Brian not wanting to let his sister out of his sight.  
  
When he’d shown up for the interview -  
  
“Hey! What are you doing?”  
  
A young, deep female voice startled him out of his recollections. Brian focused his eyes on her.  
  
The girl was of average height, broad-shouldered and muscular, her face locked in a snarl. She wore a dark green fur-lined jacket and heavy boots. Her brown eyes were the same shade as her hair, narrowed and suspicious. In addition to the ears at the side of her head, two ears popped out through her hair, furry and pointed. She was a Faunus.  
  
She was also carrying a large double-sided battleaxe, slightly taller than she was. She was pointing it straight towards him.  
  
Brian raised his hands in a gesture of surrender.  
  
“I’m sorry?” he said.  
  
He smiled, trying to appear non-threatening.  
  
Apparently, he failed, as the girl advanced, growling. She raised her weapon to swing at him. Brian backed away, waving his hands in the air. “Look, I’m sorry, I’m a student here! I’m looking for my sister!”  
  
The battleaxe stopped moving. The girl wielding it glared at him for a second. For a moment, it looked like she might attack him anyway.  
  
Then, the blades of the battleaxe curled inwards towards the shaft, the handle collapsed inward, and by the time the mechanical shifting and grinding had ended, the girl was holding a double-barreled shotgun. Which, Brian noted, was no longer pointed at him. He relaxed just a bit.  
  
She slung the shotgun over her back, then stomped closer to Brian, until he could have reached out and punched her. She squinted at him, then made a noise vaguely resembling recognition.  
  
“Does she have black skin? Horns? Can vanish?” she asked. She didn’t wait for Brian to reply. “Goodwitch got her. Took her to orientation.”  
  
Brian’s eyes widened in surprise, for more than one reason.  
  
“Where is that?” he found himself saying.  
  
“This way,” she grunted. She turned back the way she came, expecting him to follow.  
  
He followed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brian's Semblance is Smoke Creation. He can create clouds of smoke and maintain them by spending his Aura. There's some weird stuff he can do with Dust, too.
> 
> Aisha's Semblance is Invisibility. That's it. She can't maintain it forever, but she can use it for quite a bit of time before burning through her Aura.
> 
> Rachel's Semblance (yes, that is Rachel) is Spectral Hound. She can summon a large spectral wolf to fight alongside her. There is some weird stuff with Dust that she can do with it.
> 
> Glynda's speech is copied directly from Ruby Rose, the RWBY episode.
> 
> Can you guess who Brian's employer is?
> 
> If you have any questions, feedback, complaints, etc., feel free to post them.
> 
> Thanks to Juff for providing feedback!


	3. Pointing North

“I’ll try to keep this brief.”  
  
The auditorium, despite its large size, was fairly crowded. Dozens of students stood, some in groups, some alone, Almost all eyes were fixed on Beacon’s headmaster, standing behind the microphone on the stage. Ozpin.  
  
Taylor struggled to find words to describe him. His appearance seemed an exercise in contradictions - his tousled silver-grey hair contrasting with his well-fitting black suit, his plain white coffee mug - supposedly filled with hot cocoa - in one hand with his mechanical cane - his weapon - in his other. Parts of him seemed friendly, eccentric, incompetent, scholarly, businesslike - he didn’t seem to fit the role of headmaster of Beacon nor the role of one of the best Huntsmen in Remnant. He did, somehow, manage to slot into both of them at the same time.  
  
Lisa stood to her right, her eyes focused on Ozpin. She was frowning, as if in deep thought. Her gaze moved up and down the man like an X-ray, determined to squeeze every detail out of the mystery that was Ozpin. (What the hell was his first name, anyway? Lisa had asked Taylor on the trip over, but she hadn’t known.)  
  
“Take a look at the people around you. What do you see? Friends? Enemies? Students? Huntsmen?”  
  
He paused, taking a sip from his mug. Taylor looked to her right, finding Lisa was still there, still analyzing Ozpin. She glanced to her left, where two more students stood, a boy and a girl. Both were broad-shouldered, muscular, and Faunus, from the look of their horns and ears respectively. The boy, however, was dark-skinned and seemed to be anxiously looking for someone, gaze sweeping across the crowd, barely paying any attention to the headmaster. The girl, on the other hand, was hanging on his every word.  
  
“When I look at you, I see tombstones. Graves. Corpses. In four years, I suspect that some of you will no longer be with us.”  
  
Ozpin’s voice had taken on a hint of melancholy. Maybe even regret.  
  
“That is the reality of life as huntsmen and huntresses. It is a dangerous profession. You will risk your lives on every mission, no matter how inconsequential. You will receive little thanks, only scorn, for those you failed to save. You will fight every day against an evil that cannot be defeated, only pushed back.”  
  
Ozpin paused.  
  
“For that, I thank you. I thank you for your sacrifice. Welcome to Beacon Academy.”  
  
And with that final ominous note, Ozpin raised his mug, as if toasting the crowd, then strode off the stage. Goodwitch took his place.  
  
“You will sleep in the auditorium tonight. Initiation begins tomorrow. Good luck. Please come see me if you have any questions.”  
  
The room erupted with chatter. Taylor turned to Lisa to ask her about her strange fixation on the headmaster, then reconsidered. That kind of prying was probably inconsiderate.  
  
Then she actually looked at Lisa and reconsidered again. Her brow was furrowed, one hand tapping the holster at her side, the other hand cupping her chin. She was muttering furiously, not loudly enough for Taylor to hear, but not so quiet that Taylor couldn’t tell she was muttering about the headmaster.  
  
Taylor’s hand rose and hung in the air above Lisa’s shoulder for a second. Then it came down, giving her an awkward pat. The blonde turned towards Taylor, startled, staring at her like she was a ghost. Her hands both fell to her sides.  
  
“Uh, what’s wrong?” Taylor said.  
  
Lisa stared at Taylor for a couple more seconds, then winced. Taylor saw Lisa’s Aura flicker, a bottle-glass green in color. Then, unexpectedly, it _shattered_. Little glowing shards of her soul scattered outwards, dissipating into nothing. It was both unsettling and alarming to watch.  
  
“Lisa! Are you okay?”  
  
Lisa shook her head distractedly. She frowned and lifted her left hand, pointing at Taylor. “Taylor, you read Huntsman magazines, right? How old is Ozpin?”  
  
“Uh, late thirties, if I had to - no, wait, you didn’t answer my question! Are you okay? What happened?” Then Taylor frowned. “How did you know I read Huntsman mags? I didn’t tell you that on the airship, did I?”  
  
“It’s my Semblance,” Lisa said distantly, after a few seconds. “I call it Intuition. It tells me facts, lets me make logical deductions, put together figurative puzzle pieces. Drains Aura like a bitch, though.”  
  
Taylor tried to suppress a frown. Lisa hadn’t told her that, which was reasonable. You didn’t tell someone you just met your Semblance. It was best to keep it as a surprise, an extra tool in your toolbelt, a secret weapon. Still, even though it was irrational, Taylor couldn’t help but feel just a _bit_ hurt.  
  
“What did it tell you about me?” Taylor asked.  
  
Lisa didn’t reply immediately. Taylor glanced at her face; her eyes seemed a hundred miles away. Her focus was on what Taylor had just told her, as well as whatever revelations she’d picked up from watching the headmaster speak. Her brow furrowed occasionally, then smoothed itself out.  
  
Taylor smothered her frustration and walked over to where she’d left her possessions, leaving Lisa to stew for a while. Maybe she’d check back later.  
  
Her bags were by the side of the auditorium: one suitcase containing mostly changes of clothes and some Dust, and a backpack, containing the rest of her things. Her training notebooks included a weekly-or-so analysis of her own skill and strength as a Huntress, some notes on the Grimm she kind of wanted to show to Professor Port - she thought he might be interested on the subject - and, somewhat embarrassingly, some of her long-winded rants about the bullies at school. She’d also brought a couple blank notebooks for note-taking during classes as well as some basic school supplies.  
  
What she hadn’t brought was a sleeping bag. Taylor sighed.  
  
Goodwitch had said to ask if she had questions…  
  
Taylor went out to look for the professor. It didn’t take long. Professor Goodwitch was standing to the side of the stage, conversing with the black-skinned Faunus Taylor had seen earlier. Neither of them seemed happy.  
  
Taylor approached them from the side. Goodwitch turned her head to look at her, then turned back to the Faunus. “I’m sorry, Mister Dusk, but I am not responsible for knowing the exact location of your sister. I have warned her not to leave this auditorium, but aside from that, you will have to find her on your own.” ‘Mister Dusk’ started to respond, but Goodwitch cut him off. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, there is another student who needs my attention.”  
  
The Faunus nodded politely then turned towards Taylor, who noted that he was quite handsome. “I’m sorry, miss, but have you seen my sister? Goat Faunus, looks a bit like me, purple scarf? She might’ve been invisible? Goes by Aisha?”  
  
His voice was deep and masculine. Taylor could’ve mistaken it for an adult’s voice.  
  
She didn’t recall seeing such a person, though to be fair, she probably wouldn’t if such a person was invisible. Taylor shook her head. The Faunus smiled politely, replying, “Thank you regardless,” and walked away.  
  
“What is it, Miss…” Professor Goodwitch trailed off. Her expression was carefully neutral.  
  
“Taylor Monot, Professor.”  
  
“Miss Monot, then.” Goodwitch looked at Taylor expectantly.  
  
Taylor struggled to find the words to simply ask the deputy headmistress of Beacon Academy for… a sleeping bag? God, what was she thinking? Glynda Goodwitch was undoubtedly a very busy woman who didn’t have time to get a student a _sleeping bag_ of all things!  
  
_This was a stupid idea_ , she thought.  
  
Taylor couldn’t read Goodwitch’s expression, but she was 100% sure the woman was seething behind those spectacles. Did Taylor really want to embarrass herself, make herself look like an incompetent fool in front of the second most powerful person at Beacon? Her weapon was a riding crop, for Christ’s sake! Would she… Taylor blanched at the thought. And she’d be risking it for what? A _sleeping bag?_  
  
“Uh… never mind.” Taylor turned and walked away as quickly as she could, ignoring Glynda’s raised eyebrow. Maybe she’d ask someone else? She could just sleep on the floor. That would be fine.  
  


* * *

  
Glynda watched the young Miss Monot turn and walk back into the crowd of students.  
  
It was funny how, despite her obvious skill with hiding in crowds, she still managed to stick out like a sore thumb. Her grey, drab clothing would’ve been perfect for blending into any gathering of normal people, and perhaps the walls of a city, but among Huntsmen… she was a sudden inexplicable grey stripe in a rainbow, a sudden blotch of monochrome in a colorful photograph. She stood out.  
  
As a result, Glynda was easily able to track her as she maneuvered her way through the crowd of students. She moved cautiously, never broaching anyone’s personal space, careful not to offend. Almost like a moth. Delicate.  
  
Miss Monot eventually made her way to the side of the auditorium, where her bags were. There were only two, a suitcase and a bookbag. Both were old and worn. Strange.  
  
Glynda didn’t want to generalize, but she knew that wealthier families tended to have significantly better odds of being accepted into Beacon than poorer ones, not because their children were inherently better fighters, but because they simply had more money, time, and training. It was unfair, to be sure, but it was a fact of life. This year was a bit of an exception in that regard, but the poorer students were still in the minority.  
  
That made Miss Monot’s presence here all the more surprising, in Glynda’s eyes. She hadn’t had outstanding circumstances like Miss Oakfur or Mister and Miss Dusk, else Glynda likely would have remembered her. And right now, she hadn’t the slightest clue who the girl was.  
  
Glynda decided to remedy that issue, pulling her Scroll out and navigating to the student directory. The directory contained a list of all current students enrolled at Beacon Academy and all registered information on them, including their transcripts, and test scores and footage. It also allowed those with proper authorization to remotely view the students, so long as they were either on Beacon’s campus or in a public location with cameras.  
  
Her transcript was utterly ordinary, even below-average. However, when Glynda pulled up Miss Monot’s exam scores, she found they were exemplary. Nearly perfect. On the theoretical portion, she had done excellently, achieving one of the highest scores of all the students who’d taken it. Colin had apparently been in charge of her practical, and he also had nothing but glowing praise for the young student.  
  
Speaking of which, he was calling her right now. Glynda accepted the call, collapsed her Scroll, and raised it to her ear.  
  
“Colin?”  
  
“Glynda. We have a problem.” Colin’s voice was stern and curt. He didn’t wait for her to reply before continuing, “Someone broke into my lab and stole my equipment.”  
  
Glynda sucked in a breath.  
  
Colin Cobalt was the Weapon Crafting and Upkeep teacher at Beacon Academy. He was also one of Remnant’s premier inventors, scientists, and Huntsmen. His weaponry was some of the most complex and deadly ever conceived. As a result, if some of it was missing - stolen - that could be bad.  
  
“What is missing?” Glynda asked.  
  
“I’m not sure. I haven’t returned yet. I only know because the camera feeds near my lab went down and I sent Peter to investigate. I suspect the answer is ‘almost everything’.”  
  
That was… even more concerning. Glynda knew Colin kept at least two backup Halberds in his lab, each probably loaded with gadgets and gizmos. Not to mention some of the more experimental projects as well as things even she didn’t know about. The damage those things could do in the wrong hands…  
  
Glynda glanced at the crowd of students. None of them had left the auditorium, as far as she knew. The doors had been locked from the outside. There was still a chance that a student had managed to slip outside and steal all of Colin’s equipment, but that seemed more unlikely the more Glynda thought about it. This hypothetical burglar would have to be able to pass through walls or something, and even if they did succeed in robbing Colin blind, where would they keep all of their loot?  
  
Something Colin had mentioned made her pause. Glynda frowned in confusion. “Peter? Shouldn’t he be out there with you?”  
  
The two professors had volunteered to go out and cut down on the Grimm population in the Emerald Forest, slay some of the more dangerous and troublesome Grimm, and place the Relics on pedestals for the students to find. Ozpin had marked out the locations of a particularly old Geist as well as an out-of-place Megoliath that needed to be removed so as not to endanger the safety of the students. He had also explicitly marked out certain locations to be avoided, which likely contained mostly lesser Grimm for the students to slay. It was supposed to be a two-man job.  
  
“Peter’s presence was unnecessary. I can finish this on my own,” Colin grunted.  
  
Glynda had to admit that he probably could. It might take him twice as much time, but the man’s endurance and tenacity were likely more than up to the task. Still, she was fairly certain he had an ulterior motive…  
  
“I see that you grew tired of Peter’s boasting,” Glynda remarked.  
  
Colin’s lack of response was telling.  
  
Glynda suppressed a chuckle.  
  
“I will return within the hour. I will conduct a more thorough investigation then. Goodbye.” He hung up.  
  
Glynda shook her head, returning her Scroll to her pocket.  
  
The chatter of the auditorium started to die down, replaced by the sounds of sleep - deep heavy breathing, some snoring. One female student was making a bit of a ruckus, though she stopped once Glynda started glaring at her.  
  
As the shattered moon rose higher in the sky, Glynda couldn’t help but feel as if this would be an… exciting school year.  
  
She was pretty sure that was a bad thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Colin's Semblance is Insomnia. He doesn't need to sleep and doesn't get tired. Yeah, that's it. He hates it.
> 
> Writing a new Ozpin speech was fun. I will admit to being heavily inspired by Sympathy for the Devils, a fairly good RWBY almost-self-insert which features Team CFVY as central characters. Anyway, Ozpin's Semblance is a limited form of time manipulation. It probably won't come up.
> 
> Did I capture Taylor's character right? I figured it'd be a combination of nervous and suspicious.
> 
> Finally, whodunnit? Any guesses for teams?


	4. The Moment You've All Been Waiting For, Part One

Taylor awoke slowly, and a bit painfully. Sitting up, she guessed it was probably about six-thirty in the morning. She’d managed to wake up every day at about that time for the past five months now, minus two or three exceptions when she’d stayed out _really_ late training.  
  
For a brief moment, she wondered why she was lying on the ground instead of in a bed. Then she remembered. Beacon. Lisa. Ozpin. Goodwitch. The _fucking lack of sleeping bags_.  
  
Taylor still wasn’t sure if she’d made a mistake or not. She was pretty sure she hadn’t, though. A slightly bad night’s sleep was totally the better option compared to making herself look stupid in front of the deputy headmistress. It’d make initiation a little harder, but she’d pushed through worse situations in worse shape. It’d be fine. Probably.  
  
Was she overthinking this? No sir, most definitely not.  
  
Glancing around the auditorium, Taylor noted that basically everybody was still asleep, including Lisa, who had positioned her sleeping bag near the room’s main exit. There were two empty sleeping bags, but the people who had probably inhabited them were nowhere to be seen.  
  
Taylor stood, shakily. She rummaged through her suitcase for her toothbrush and toothpaste and headed for the women’s bathroom.  
  
One face-washing and one tooth-brushing later, Taylor felt quite a bit more awake. She examined the room again. There hadn’t been much change in the two or three minutes she’d spent in the bathroom.  
  
Taylor wasn’t sure what to do, or even what she could do. Professor Goodwitch hadn’t exactly left any instructions as to what they were supposed to do in the morning, only told them that initiation would occur at some point. She quietly walked over to the door, where Lisa was. She was still sleeping soundly.  
  
Taylor then tried opening the door, finding that it swung open easily, quietly, revealing the room she’d had to come through in order to enter the auditorium yesterday. She walked out, closing the door on her way out so as not to disturb the rest of the still-sleeping students. Checking the door leading outside revealed that it was also unlocked. Dim sunlight struck her face as she opened it.  
  
Taylor decided to go for a run. She needed to stay in shape. Also, she wanted to take a look around Beacon’s campus. She was going to be staying here for the foreseeable future, after all. Making a note of her surroundings so that she could get back here later, she started jogging east, towards the rising sun.  
  
Beacon’s campus was well-maintained. The buildings were clean, the ponds a scintillating blue, the hedges trimmed, the ground clear of trash. It was also surprisingly empty. During her thirty minute run, she saw a total of two other students, both probably second-years. She steered clear of them.  
  
As she reached the eastern edge of Beacon’s campus and began to turn back, she felt a prickling in her head, a buzzing at the edge of her consciousness.  
  
She knew what this meant. There was a creature of Grimm about three blocks away from her. And if she just focused, used her Semblance just a tiny bit, expended an ounce of Aura…  
  
Taylor felt the Beowolf in the forest below. She saw through its eyes, the green undergrowth of the Emerald Forest. Its front paw lifted off the ground, though not under its own volition. It was all her. It looked up in her direction, through the trees and rock and saw her, glowing with darkness.  
  
She could feel its agitation, its desire to kill all humans. To find and cause more sadness and depression and anger and hatred. Its desire to ruin everything.  
  
She made it bash its head against a rock until it died. It dissolved into black smoke.  
  
Taylor sighed. Her Semblance… she didn’t like to think that it was truly a manifestation of her soul, more a superpower she happened to have. Because, if it was, what did that say about her? Nothing good, she was sure.  
  
Grimm Control. Her secret. She hadn’t told anybody, not even her father, about it. She’d only practiced with it far from prying eyes, where nobody could see. She _definitely_ hadn’t told anybody at school; that would’ve just provided more fuel for the fire that was her bullies. It was a good thing she’d only unlocked it after… the incident… else, Emma might’ve known about it too, and that _bitch_ undoubtedly would’ve used it against her, told the entire school, and maybe even tried to get her suspended or expelled.  
  
Taylor made her way back to the auditorium, walking this time, not jogging. She wasn’t in the mood to exert herself any further until initiation.  
  
About 30 minutes later, Taylor found herself in front of the locker building. She and the other students had passed through the building on their way to the auditorium yesterday, when they’d each been assigned a locker for storing their weaponry.  
  
Taylor remembered that Sophia was going to be attending Beacon with her, then considered being anywhere near her without her weapon. She didn’t like the thought. While she may have missed the first airship to Beacon, Taylor didn’t trust her to just give up because she had been unconscious. The psycho bitch might attack her, just like she had at school. Now that she was a Huntress in training, she wanted to be prepared. Taylor went in.  
  
Taylor counted locker numbers, which went up surprisingly high, until she found hers - 611. Inside were her weapons, Sting and Burn.  
  
Sting was a collapsible baton with a rifle mechanism built into the grip. Right now, it was collapsed, but as Taylor shook her wrist to extend it, it snapped out to reach the length of her arm, doubling her reach. The top and middle sections were hollowed out, allowing the Dust charges stored in the handle to be aimed and fired.  
  
It was more like a musket than a modern rifle, Taylor supposed. Dust had to be stuffed down the barrel, though she could collapse it (which she did) to make it a little easier.  
  
She strapped Sting to the holder on her back, then picked up Burn.  
  
Burn was a simple combat knife. Perfectly ordinary, if not for the fact that it had a large quantity of Fire Dust imbued into the blade. It had taken a long, _long_ , time to figure out how to do it, and she had wasted a large amount of Dust, but the end result had been worth it. When she focused her Aura through the weapon, Burn could cut through solid steel in a single good stroke. It also didn’t dull easily.  
  
Together, the two weapons were… probably pretty good? She’d killed plenty of Grimm with them, at least. Granted, most of them had been controlled by her, but that made it more difficult rather than less, in her opinion.  
  
Taylor sheathed Burn at her side and turned to leave the locker building, but paused just before she went through the doors. There was the sound of an explosion, followed by faint voices coming from deeper in the building. She couldn’t make out what they were saying, but they sounded like they were arguing.  
  
Taylor wasn’t sure why she wanted to, but she decided to investigate. She turned around and followed her ear.  
  
As she got closer, she was able to determine that one of the people sounded like a young girl and seemed upset. Offended. The other person let out a brief burst of laughter, slow and mocking. Male.  
  
 _Maybe this isn’t what it sounds like_ , Taylor tried.  
  
Taylor turned a corner and finally saw the owners of the voices. The first belonged to a blond girl that was… a bit older than Taylor was expecting, really. She wore a professional-looking, distinctive outfit, though what really caught Taylor’s eye was the massive laser cannon she had in front of her, as well as the gaping hole in the wall in front of it, presumably caused by its activation.  
  
The cannon itself was about the size of a Creep, or perhaps a large couch. Much taller than the person who supposedly wielded it. It was a sleek silver thing, with a massive square barrel. Two silver handles were welded onto the other side, about a chest width apart. Fire Dust was contained within a glass magazine on top of the cannon.  
  
The hole was perfectly circular and had a radius of about a meter. The metal around the edges was still glowing. When Taylor peered through the hole, she saw that the metal of the wall had been cleanly burned through,  
  
 _That_ , Taylor thought, _is not the weapon of a Huntsman. That is fucking heavy artillery._  
  
The other person was the same one that had tased Sophia on the airship. He had curly black hair and pale skin. His frilled shirt and dark leggings fit loosely on him, his frame too thin to wear them properly. In his hand was the same gold rod that had shocked Sophia so badly, though it was more of a scepter, really. It was sleek, with a blade on one end and a crowned ball on the other. The latter was silently crackling with blue-yellow bolts — Electricity Dust.  
  
His expression was a lazy smirk, which he wore the same way Taylor wore her tired slouch: habitually.  
  
Taylor quickly decided to do something about that, straightening her spine and trying to project an expression of confidence. Her voice still came out as a stutter, however, and she hated it: “W-What’s going on?”  
  
They both turned towards her, allowing Taylor to see the young girl’s expression: frustrated, anxious, and angry.  
  
“This fucker snuck up on me! Made me do _that_!” She gestured towards the gaping hole in the wall.  
  
Taylor was struck by the incongruity between her voice, appearance, and language. She looked about as old as Taylor, if a good bit shorter, but her voice belonged to someone five years younger.  
  
Before she could respond, the ‘fucker’ replied, “And I said I was sorry. Why won’t you accept my apology? It was super sincere.”  
  
His voice, Taylor noted, had no sincerity in it whatsoever.  
  
“And now you slander my good name in front of this innocent young maiden?” he said. “For shame.” If he’d been carrying his sarcasm like a backpack, he’d be tipped over on his back like a turtle.  
  
The other girl’s fists were clenched at her side and she looked to be on the verge of punching the sarcastic douchebag. Taylor wasn’t inclined to stop her. This kid seemed far too much like a bully for her liking, and while he _had_ stopped Sophia from attacking Lisa and her on the airship, Taylor was fairly certain at this point that he hadn’t done it out of kindness.  
  
Taylor took a mental step back, then a physical one. Maybe he was just being a jerk because the girl was blaming him? Or something? She needed more information.  
  
Taylor gulped. “Uh… okay? Um… you… he…” She struggled for a second. “What are your names? I’m Taylor.”  
  
The girl opened her mouth to reply, but the other guy beat her to the punch. “I’m Alec. That’s Melissa.”  
  
Melissa actually growled at that. “It’s not _Melissa,_ it’s -”  
  
Alec cut her off, saying, “No one cares. You’re Melissa now. Deal with it.”  
  
Mel - ‘Melissa’ opened her mouth, then closed it. She closed her eyes, then smoothed out her face into a more-or-less neutral expression. She reached down, grabbing the laser cannon with both hands and hoisting it up onto her shoulder… somehow. When she spoke again, her voice was stony and neutral as well.  
  
“I don’t have to deal with this. I’m going to go get breakfast. Rest assured, the headmaster will be hearing about this.” With that, she walked briskly past Alec and Taylor, giving the latter a scowl as she went past her. “Thanks for the _help_.”  
  
Taylor blinked and stuttered for a second, then sighed. “Fuck…” She glanced at the exit, then looked back towards Alec, who was examining his fingernails.  
  
She sighed again. “Um, thanks for helping me yesterday. With Sophia.”  
  
Alec glanced up at her voice, slight surprise in his face. He frowned in concentration, then snapped his fingers, face dawning in realization. “So that’s what her name was? Huh. No problem, I guess.” He went back to looking at his fingernails.  
  
Taylor finally decided that she disliked him. His apathy seemed… incorrect, for a future Huntsman. Huntsmen were supposed to be kind, courageous, willing and wanting to help, to save lives. Alec was just uncaring. He didn’t give a damn about anything that she could see.  
  
She left the locker room, thoughts troubled.

* * *

  
“You have spent many years training your skills, to become Huntsmen. Today, these skills will be put to the test in the Emerald Forest.”  
  
Headmaster Ozpin stood near the edge of the cliff, coffee mug in hand. He was in front of Taylor, with Goodwitch at his side, a large grey Scroll held in her arms. Lisa stood to her right, the last one in the row, dual silver and green pistols held in her hands. The dog Faunus girl from yesterday was standing to her left, leaning on a massive battleaxe. Further down the line of students, Taylor could see Alec, arms and sceptre held behind his head, Mister Dusk, dusting down his suit jacket, and a similar-looking Faunus girl who was presumably the sister he’d previously mentioned, her purple scarf fluttering in the wind. Taylor felt a jolt of fear when she also saw Sophia in the line, crossbows at the ready.  
  
Taylor had just drawn and extended her baton, wanting to fit in with the other armed students. She glanced at her relatively simple weapon and outfit, and mentally winced; all of the other students were all so… cool. Amazing. She hoped she wouldn’t look too bad.  
  
“The forest is filled with Grimm. Do not hesitate to destroy them, or they _will_ kill you.”  
  
Taylor could feel them. There were six within her range: five Beowolves and an Ursa. She didn’t take control of any of them. She hoped she wouldn’t need to.  
  
Goodwitch spoke now. “I’m sure that you have heard rumors about team assignments. Well, let us confirm some of those for you. Each of you will be given teammates today.”  
  
Taylor frowned inwardly. On one hand, it was probably a good idea to assign teams early, get teammates working together as soon as possible so they’d be used to who they were working with that much quicker. On the other hand, it might be premature to assign teams so early. She had no idea who she might get along well with. Lisa was basically the only friendly person she’d met so far.  
  
“These teammates will be with you for your next four years at Beacon. It is in your best interest to pair yourself with someone you work well with.” Ozpin had resumed speaking. “That said, the first person you make eye contact with will be your partner for the rest of your time at Beacon.”  
  
 _...what._  
  
That had to be the dumbest method for choosing partners Taylor had ever heard of. She’d assumed teammates would be chosen by, oh, analysis and thought? Maybe? Eye contact was _so stupid!_ She could be paired with literally anybody if she wasn’t careful. What was Ozpin thinking? Was he insane?  
  
Oblivious to Taylor’s concerns, Ozpin continued, “Once you’ve met your partner, make your way to the northern end of the forest. There is an abandoned temple at the end of the path, containing several relics. Each pair must choose one and return here, to the top of the cliff. We will be monitoring and grading you throughout the duration of your initiation, but the instructors will not intervene. You will survive or die on your own.”  
  
Honestly, Taylor wasn’t too concerned about that. She was fairly certain she could avoid most of the Grimm, and if she encountered any, she had a definite advantage over the rest of her classmates in that regard. As long as she was careful, she could use her Semblance and still keep it a secret.  
  
“Any questions?”  
  
The girl who was probably Dusk’s sister raised her hand. Not waiting for anyone to call on her, she shouted out, “What if we don’t like our partners? Can we get exchanges?”  
  
Ozpin’s expression didn’t change, but his voice grew a touch harder. “No. You will learn to get along, or you will fail.”  
  
“But - WHOAAAOH YOU MOTHERF-” The spot - the _launchpad_ \- the girl was standing on sprang upwards before the girl could finish her retort, sending her flying into the forest. Her brother, who was standing to her right, visibly sighed, bringing his hands up. Then, he too was launched into the forest.  
  
Ozpin took a sip of drink from his mug.  
  
Taylor glanced down at the white platform beneath her feet, then at the… eight other people that would be launched before her.  
  
 _I should probably try to watch what they do._ She didn’t have a landing strategy. Maybe she could pick something up.  
  
She glanced out towards the siblings, still flying in the air. The girl drew two thin short swords from her scabbard while her brother simply brought his arms up, protecting his face. Out of the corner of her eye, Taylor noted that Sophia had been launched into the forest, followed by ‘Melissa’.  
  
The Faunus girl’s swords elongated, growing to nearly double the previous length, but also becoming flexible, ribbonlike. She swung her arms downwards and the _whips_ followed, wrapping around a tree branch. The girl swung down into the forest and Taylor lost track of her. Nothing there she could use, but it was interesting.  
  
Her brother, in contrast, simply let himself fall down into the forest. Taylor wondered how much Aura he had that he could just _do_ that. Probably quite a bit. Her Aura was about average. She wouldn’t be hitting the ground at _that_ speed anytime soon if she could help it.  
  
Two more people had been launched off the cliff by the time Taylor looked back towards Sophia and… huh. She couldn’t find ‘Melissa’ anywhere. Maybe she’d already landed? Anyway, the two aforementioned people were Alec and some redhead with a massive flail.  
  
Sophia activated her Semblance, letting herself drift gently towards the ground, like a deflated balloon. Shadow Phase, she called it. It let her pass through most things and reduced her mass a great deal, allowing her to perform acrobatics Taylor would have great difficulty replicating.  
  
Alec didn’t do anything until he reached the treeline, at which point he aimed for a tree and kicked off it at an angle, redirecting and reducing his momentum. He did it again once he reached another tree, and then he was below the treeline and out of sight. Taylor was impressed. He might’ve been a jerk, but he undoubtedly had skill.  
  
Taylor didn’t recognize any of the following students to be launched - a guy with a greatsword, two girls, one wielding a crossbow and the other an arming sword. The Faunus girl to her left was sent flying and then it was her turn. She braced herself, and almost missed Lisa calling out to her, “I’ll meet up with you! Good luck!”  
  
Finally, with a sudden _sproing,_ Taylor was in the air.  
  
As wind rushed past her, she belatedly realized that she might need Burn as well as Sting and drew it from its scabbard. She tried to trace her flight trajectory, estimating her current speed and angle to the horizontal to find out where she’d land. She didn’t like what she found.  
  
 _I’m going to hit that massive rock. Shit._  
  
Taylor quickly formulated a plan to avoid pasting herself on the hard gray surface, holding Sting out to the side and firing it. The recoil blasted her to the left, allowing her to dodge the rock, though it did nothing to reduce her speed. Then she swapped the weapons in her hands, so that Burn was now in her right, with Sting in her left.  
  
As she passed by the left edge of the rock, Taylor drove Burn into it, slicing straight into the granite, halting her downwards movement almost immediately. Her arm felt like it would wrench out of her socket, but fortunately her Aura kept it nice and socketed, just the way she liked it.  
  
Taylor took a deep breath. Her heart was pounding, she was filled with adrenaline, and she needed to calm down. She tried an exhilarated smile; it didn’t seem to fit.  
  
She scanned her range for Grimm. There was a Beowolf pack to the east, prowling through the underbrush, as well as a Death Stalker in a cave to the north. Both easily avoidable. She didn’t sense any people, though.  
  
Taylor glanced upwards. She could only see bare specks of the fresh blue sky through the canopy. She wondered where Lisa was.  
  
 _She said she’d meet up with me…_  
  
Taylor didn’t know where Lisa might be though, and she didn’t see how Lisa could find her, either. The Emerald Forest was huge, stretching as far as the eye could see from her previous lofty position on top of the cliffs. If Taylor spent her time searching for the blonde, it might take days to finally locate her.  
  
She was better off looking for that temple. Lisa would probably meet up with her there. _Yeah, that’s a good idea._  
  
Mind made up, Taylor glanced up at the sky, tried to remember what direction she was originally facing, turned to the left, and started trekking through the forest.  
  
The first twenty or so minutes of her trip were largely uneventful. She simply walked through the brush, glancing around at the emerald-green leaves and looking for traces of her fellow students, not finding any. She used her Semblance occasionally, using the eyes of the Grimm to help her search.  
  
There were a lot less Grimm here than in Forever Fall, where she had spent her time training. She’d only had to change course once to avoid a trio of Ursai, whereas she might’ve encountered twice as many of the beasts travelling through the forests near home. Taylor supposed that was reasonable, given she was travelling in an area literally right next to a Huntsman academy. Huntsmen probably killed Grimm here frequently to keep populations low.  
  
It was about the time when she managed to catch a glimpse of the temple through the eyes of a passing Nevermore that she finally also caught a glimpse of one of her fellow students. It was the male ram Faunus, Mister Dusk. Unfortunately, she was glimpsing him through nine sets of Beowolf eyes, some of them much closer to him than he would like.  
  
Taylor considered simply ignoring him and continuing onward to the temple, but immediately dismissed the thought. He looked like he needed help. She could help. She was going to try. Taylor dashed towards him.  
  
The first Beowolf didn’t even see her coming as she smashed its head into the ground with her baton, then fired a Dust charge into it for good measure.  
  
The other student turned towards Taylor, surprised, meeting her eyes. They widened. Several expressions crossed the boy’s face in that moment - shock, horror, a bit of hatred - before it was replaced by a simple (slightly wooden) smile and a nod. He turned back to the Beowolves closest to him, bringing his gloved hands towards his face. A boxing stance.  
  
Two of the Beowolves charged Taylor. She bent her legs and jumped, soaring over the first and bringing her baton down with tremendous force on the second, striking it right on the head. The first one spun around and tried to attack her from behind, but she flipped her baton about, placing the barrel on her shoulder, and fired twice, once through each of its eyes.  
  
A third Beowolf leaped at her. Taylor stepped slightly to the side and brought Sting around to catch it in midair, slamming it into a nearby tree. She finished it off by driving Burn through its throat. It stabbed through the dark flesh with ease.  
  
She turned back towards her new partner, and was alarmed to see a Beowolf on his back, biting furiously towards him. However, he quickly proved that he had a handle on the situation, snapping his head backwards, slamming his horns into the Grimm’s neck, driving it off of him. He pivoted, pulled back his fist, and punched the Beowolf right in the side of the snout, snapping its neck.  
  
The rest of the Beowolves lay behind him, dissolving into black smoke.  
  
Taylor watched him walk up to her, realizing she didn’t even know his name. Fortunately, he resolved that issue not long afterward, offering a friendly smile and an outstretched hand to shake as he introduced himself.  
  
“Thanks for the help. My name’s Brian.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'Melissa' was fun to write. Alec was less fun.
> 
> I'm sad I didn't get to use the 'landing strategy' quote, but eh.
> 
> Also, it turns out the plural of Ursa is Ursai. Who knew?


	5. The Moment You've All Been Waiting For, Part Two

Lily Niji was good at math. Very good, some might say. Her father, in particular, had described her as having a gift for numbers, amazing skill with trajectories and angles, and perfect timing. Amazing for any engineer, doctor, mathematician, or Huntsman. He had claimed that she could nail the eye of a Nevermore from a hundred meters with a flechette, which was… probably correct? She’d never tried, but she’d pulled off harder shots. Obviously exemplary, regardless.  
  
Her mother disagreed, but that was beside the point.  
  
Her Semblance tied into that. The ability to imbue objects with incredible energy for a specific length of time, that allowed them to punch straight through anything, shatter steel like a fine vase, and generally be way too destructive to use in populated areas. The only thing she’d found that could reliably stop projectiles imbued by her Semblance was Aura, and even then it was plenty deadly.  
  
The amount of Aura required to imbue an object depended on both its mass and the duration of its imbuement, and it scaled exponentially - imbuing an object for just a second required almost none, while ten seconds would drain it by almost a quarter. Thankfully, her weapon was designed with both of these limitations in mind.  
  
Mangekyo was, first and foremost, an arbalest, or a larger-than-average crossbow. It had been heavily modified to be faster in almost every sense of the word - it automatically loaded and drew back a new lightweight bolt every time the trigger was fired to save on reloading time and it fired said bolts at much higher speeds than was normal - three-fourths of the muzzle velocity of a low-caliber pistol shot. This reduced the amount of time she needed to imbue bolts for, as it let them reach their target that much faster.  
  
Her backup and melee weapon was sheathed in the stock of Mangekyo: a simple fencing foil. Lightweight and thin, she could channel her power through it in short bursts, granting her some serious cutting power.  
  
Both of her weapons still required quite a bit of skill, mind you. Using her Semblance for even a second too long cost her valuable Aura, and ending the effect a second too early caused her attacks to bounce off their targets, harmlessly. And that tied it all back to her excellent sense of timing. And that brought her back to the present.  
  
 _Now would be a good time for me to use it_ , she thought as she plummeted towards the ground.  
  
Fortunately, she’d practiced for this, at the insistence of her mother. She’d been prepared to fall onto a more or less flat surface, but she wasn’t going to waste the opportunity to use the trees.  
  
Lily extended her arms and legs, spread-eagled, giving herself more time, catching the air. She tilted the limbs on her left side upward, her right side downward, drifting to the right, then flattened out again once she reached her desired velocity. She didn’t want to overshoot.  
  
Right as she passed the large oak tree, she extended her gloved right hand and activated her Semblance, pushing the glove _into_ the bark. Using her arm as an axis, she managed to redirect her momentum upward, swinging through the leafy canopy and landing gently on a branch.  
  
 _Nailed it_ , she let herself think.  
  
She looked around from her current vantage point, looking for other students, of which there were none in sight. Unfortunate. She dropped down from the tree, landing softly in the grass below.  
  
Lily had put quite a bit of thought into who she wanted as a partner. Someone kind, someone caring, someone that could cover her back in a fight. Ideally, they’d even share some of the same interests, not that she had many outside of fighting Grimm.  
  
To be honest, though, she’d take just about anyone, human or Faunus, boy or girl. Anything was better than being alone again.  
  
She stared up at the sky, checked the direction the wind was blowing, and headed northwest.  
  
She probably wouldn’t find a partner just standing around.

* * *

  
It turned out she didn’t find a partner walking about, either.  
  
Lily had been travelling for about twenty minutes before she heard the howling of Beowolves, as well as several gunshots. Immediately, she changed course and broke into a run towards the source of the sound, Mangekyo drawn and expanded from its holder.  
  
By the time she arrived, however, all the Grimm were dead, black and white bodies piled up around one of her fellow students. Lily walked slightly to the side, getting a better view.  
  
She was blonde, with green eyes, pale skin, and freckles across the bridge of her nose. Her blonde hair was down, falling to her shoulders. She wore a well-fitting purple and black coat, unzipped slightly at the top, exposing her cleavage. Lily could almost imagine herself wearing something similar; she looked good in it. A silver and green pistol was held in each of her hands.  
  
There didn’t seem to be anyone else nearby. Lily raised her visor and met the other girl’s eyes, then was confused as the other girl winced and opened her mouth. “I’ve been partnered up already. Some Faunus girl with a purple scarf.”  
  
Lily cursed inwards, trying not to let any of her disappointment show on her face. Evidently, she failed, as the purple-clad girl shrugged and smiled apologetically. She had a nice smile.  
  
“Sorry. Name’s Lisa, by the way.”  
  
“Where is she?” she found herself asking. “I don’t see her.”  
  
Lisa shrugged again. “I don’t know. Lost track of her after she turned invisible and ran away - she doesn’t like me, for some reason. She could be anywhere by now. Pretty sure she went towards the temple though.”  
  
Lily glanced northward, then looked back toward Lisa. She put her purple visor back down, covering her eyes. “Do you mind working together in the meantime?” she said, hoping the answer was no.  
  
“Nope, not a bit,” Lisa said, thankfully. “It’ll be good to have a fellow covering my back.” She gestured toward Mangekyo with one of her pistols. “You do know how to use that, right?”  
  
“Of course.” Lily was almost offended at the thought. Of _course_ she knew how to use her weapon.  
  
“Then let’s get going.” Lisa turned directly northward and started walking, only for Lily to cough awkwardly, pointing with her arbalest in the direction the temple actually was, closer to northeast.  
  
Lisa took the correction in stride, swivelling about and smiling. “Lead the way… I didn’t catch your name. What is it?”  
  
“Lily.” She fidgeted with her hairpin, made in the shape of her namesake.  
  
“Huh. Okay.” They set off together. Lisa tried to start up a conversation.  
  
“So, how are you doing?”  
  
“I’m fine.” She was also a little tired, though she didn’t say it aloud.  
  
“So you’re tired. Got it.” Lily shot Lisa a strange look. Lisa gave Lily a smug grin.  
  
“So…” Lily floundered. “How do your weapons work? Dual pistols? That seems a bit simple.”  
  
Lisa raised an eyebrow. “How does _your_ weapon work?” Before Lily could reply, she pushed onward. “Wait, let me guess. It’s a rapid-fire, automatically-reloading, modified bolt velocity arbalest. It, along with the rapier sheathed inside of it, can fold up into a smaller form - a rectangular prism.. Both are designed to be used with your Semblance, which is… increased piercing power?”  
  
Lily stared at Lisa confusedly. “How did you figure all that out?”  
  
The purple-clad girl smiled smugly. It was mildly infuriating, Lily had to admit. She almost reconsidered her previous stance on company. “I’m psychic. I’m reading your mind right now. It’s my Semblance.”  
  
Lily raised an eyebrow, unbelieving. Lisa couldn’t actually see it under her visor, but she seemed to understand it anyway. “I don’t think that’s possible. You’re lying.”  
  
Lisa shrugged, not seeming to care. “Suit yourself.”  
  
Lily couldn’t understand what her deal was. Did she have to be so… annoying? Smug? She was trying to be nice, for Christ’s sake!  
  
The conversation died and they continued walking in silence. Then they crested a hill and arrived at the temple.  
  


* * *

  
They were not the first to arrive. One group of partners had beaten them to the punch.  
  
The abandoned temple was an ancient-looking stone edifice. Pillars partially encircled a stone rotunda, which held more than a dozen pedestals by the edges. Most of those had small figurines standing atop them, gold or black. Lily couldn’t make out what they were at this distance.  
  
In the middle of the structure stood an exercise in contrasts, two people standing next to each other - a large, muscular, Faunus girl and a lanky and handsome human boy, a silver coronet resting in his black curly hair. The boy leaned against one of the empty pedestals, golden sceptre in one hand, a small black figurine tossed up and down by his other. The girl had noticed the pair of Lily and Lisa and was motioning towards them to her partner, who was nonplussed.  
  
“What’s up, cronies?” Lisa shouted down, cheerfully. She strolled down towards the temple, stopping just shy of the pillars surrounding it. Lily hung back a bit further, not liking the way the Faunus’s battleaxe was pointing towards them.  
  
“Fuck off,” the Faunus grunted back. “You want a relic? Take one. Leave us alone or I’ll stab you.”  
  
Lisa took a step forward nonetheless towards the pair, smiling. “Come on, don’t be so -”  
  
The Faunus’s battleaxe came down frighteningly quickly, smashing into the earth right in front of Lisa, showering her in dirt and grass.  
  
Lily had to admit it was mildly satisfying to see the smug and composed Lisa so taken aback. She composed herself quickly, however. “Okay then,” she said. She holstered one of her pistols, stepped towards one of the pedestals, grabbed the golden relic atop it, and jogged back to Lily’s location, holding the relic up high. As she got closer, Lily was able to recognize it as a monkey. A Mistralian breed, she knew. She’d seen some at the zoos she’d had to beg her parents to visit.  
  
“Welp. I’m out of here,” Lisa said. She winked at Lily. “You should probably wait until you get a partner to grab a relic. Good luck finding one!”  
  
And then she strode back into the forest, back towards the cliffs from whence she’d come.  
  
Lily sat down in the grass and waited, thinking about the people she’d met so far. Lisa was… kind of a jerk. She had a bigger superiority complex than her mother, and that was saying something. Always had to be smarter than others, always had to rub what you didn’t know in your face, taunt you with it.  
  
She stared up at the sky, counting the clouds, trying to make shapes out of them. She was pretty sure the remaining potential partners (and God she hoped there was at least one) would eventually make their way here. She could only pray they wouldn’t all pair up before they arrived.  
  
The two partners were still standing inside the temple. Lily wondered what they were doing. Bonding? Waiting for other teammates? Being assholes?  
  
Seven minutes later, two more people emerged from the trees, another boy-girl pair. A Faunus and a human, respectively. Lily first thought the girl was a civilian, her clothes were so ordinary, though her baton and glowing red knife indicated she was probably a Huntress in training. The boy was a Faunus with grey ram horns, and did dress with that eclectic sense of taste that Huntsmen tended to. He wore an unbuttoned black suit-jacket, showing the dark blue shirt he wore beneath. A skull insignia could just barely be made out from where Lily was watching. Black trousers, black gloves, and black combat boots completed his outfit.  
  
Neither of them were talking. They both looked a bit awkward, not knowing what to say, gazes seeming to want to be anywhere but on each other’s faces.  
  
The girl pointed at Lily, who stood back up, unholstering her arbalest. The male Faunus shrugged, finally saying something. They walked towards the temple, whereupon the butch female Faunus once again told the pair to ‘fuck off’. They did so, without issue, picking up a golden figurine as they left the temple.  
  
They were walking towards her now, Lily noted. She raised her visor and met their eyes, trying to smile invitingly.  
  
“Hi,” civilian girl said, shyly. “What’s your name? Oh, um, I’m Taylor, and this is Brian.” She gestured toward the boy standing next to her, who also smiled.  
  
“I’m Lily,” she replied.  
  
Taylor fidgeted nervously for a minute, before rapidly blurting, “So what are you doing here?”  
She winced immediately afterward.  
  
Lily started to say, “I’m waiting -” but was suddenly interrupted by an explosion. Everyone present turned their head towards the source of the noise, seeing a thick plume of smoke rising from the forest, quite a distance away. A fire.  
  
Lily had just started to move towards the plume when Taylor shouted, “Look out!” The two people still standing in the temple looked up sharply, then quickly ran towards the impromptu group they’d formed. Lily was confused until she too looked towards the sky and saw the two students hurtling through the air, set to land right where the other two had been standing only moments ago.  
  
 _Ouch_ , Lily thought. _That’s going to hurt._  
  
She had to revise her opinion as the two students got closer. One of them was wielding a one-handed sword, an arming sword, which was currently glowing a bright yellow, indicating either Semblance or Dust use. It was definitely causing them both to slow down, such that they’d hit the ground with a fraction of the velocity they otherwise would have.  
  
As they got even closer, she realized that one of the students was Lisa. She wasn’t in the best shape, as her arm and both her legs seemed either dislocated or broken, her Aura broken. Probably an injury courtesy of the Grimm she had been fighting. Lily couldn’t help but feel bad now about her previous opinion of the girl. She may have been a bit annoying, but that didn’t mean she deserved to get mauled by Grimm, and certainly not this badly.  
  
When they finally landed, gently and softly, Lily managed to get a good glimpse of the other student. She looked like a fancy doll, golden dress falling down to her knees and blonde locks falling down past her shoulders. Her sword resembled a needle, with a small hole for ‘thread’ near the hilt. Her skin was incongruously dark, matching her dark eyes.  
  
Lily stared straight at them, and the other girl stared right back. She smiled, genuinely.  
  
Then the Beringel crashed through the trees and everything became chaos.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is horrible. I'm sorry. I'll probably revise it heavily.
> 
> Lily just feels so... passive, dammit. Ugggh.


	6. Come Together

_That’s a big one._  
  
The Beringel was about 40 to 50 years old, if Taylor had to guess. Pretty old, for a Grimm. The gorilla Grimm would have been the height of the trees of the Emerald Forest if it had been standing up straight instead of bent over with its knuckles on the ground. It opened its mouth and roared, and the wave of sound crashed into her with the force of a tidal wave, sending her hair flying backward.  
  
It was pissed. Taylor could feel the beast’s aggression, particularly directed at Lisa (holy shit she looked bad - was it because of her? Her Semblance? This was not how she’d planned to meet up!) and the other girl with the sword. Battle scars adorned its chest and face, some of them recent. Black smoke wafted upwards from its midsection, caused by small arms fire - Taylor glanced at Lisa’s weapons - causing only superficial damage.  
  
She quickly took a look at the people who might be fighting by her side. Lisa looked too badly injured to help. Alec and his partner, Miss Oakfur, were making their way over towards them, though she wasn’t sure if they planned to help or not, but Brian looked like he was getting ready for a fight, as well as Lily and the new girl.  
  
Taylor drew Sting, snapped her wrist outward, and placed the baton on her shoulder, ready to strike. It wouldn’t be an easy fight, not against a fairly powerful Grimm with an injured person in their midst, but with so many people? It would be doable. That was what Taylor was thinking up until the second Beringel entered her range.  
  
“Shit,” she muttered. She glanced towards Brian, hesitating, not sure if she should reveal her cards and tell everybody. She made up her mind when a _third_ Beringel quickly followed, both of them moving faster than one might expect from such large beasts. “Two more incoming!” she shouted, pointing towards the approximate direction of the pair.  
  
Brian frowned, nodding. The first Beringel was still posturing, roaring towards them and drumming his chest with his fists, so he turned and spoke, quickly and concisely. “Taylor and I will take this one. Do any of you know first aid?” Lily raised her hand. “Lily, you take care of that girl there.” He gestured towards Lisa’s still form, then pointed at the dark-skinned blond-haired girl. “What’s your name?”  
  
“Sabah.”  
  
“You, Rachel, and… Alec, I think,” Brian continued, “hold the line against the other two. Don’t let the Grimm get to Lily. We’ll help out when the first one’s dead.”  
  
Sabah nodded, raising her sword, which vaguely resembled a needle, in front of her. Alec shrugged, holding his sceptre loosely with one hand. Rachel scowled, looking like she was about to argue, until the second and third gorilla Grimm crashed into the clearing, making a beeline towards Lisa. The first one also stopped roaring and ran towards Taylor and Brian, and then the fight began.  
  
Brian met the Grimm’s charge head-on, dodging right between its downward hammer blows and catching it in the waist with a flurry of punches. Taylor hung slightly further back, using Sting to fire at its eyes until it ran dry of ammunition. The Beringel was eventually pushed backward by Brian’s final punch, sending it tumbling head over heels until it righted itself, even more furious.  
  
Behind her, Rachel and Alec stood side by side, the former clutching a massive mechashift battleaxe, the latter muttering something Taylor couldn’t quite make out. It sounded sardonic. Sabah stood behind them, fitting a blue Dust crystal into the oval opening in the base of her blade.  
  
Just before the two Beringels reached them, Rachel planted the butt of her weapon in the ground, the blades facing the Grimm in front of her, similar to a pike. Neither of the Grimm stopped their charge, and forward momentum caused one of them to impale itself on the weapon with a sickening _squelch,_ stopping it in its tracks. It roared in pain, then leaped backward, wrenching the axe right out of Rachel’s hands. She cursed.  
  
The other Beringel finally reached Alec, letting out a giant punch that just _barely_ missed him as he leaned back slightly. He jabbed the sharp end of his weapon into its arm as it passed by and let its sideways momentum carry him off his feet, then twisted in midair, redirecting it upward, sending him flying right above the monster. At the height of his arc, he jabbed downward with his weapon, piercing right through its shoulder, missing its head by just a fraction of an inch.  
  
As the beast roared in frustration and waved its arms through the air wildly, Alec dodged, pushing off with his feet and landing right where he started, a perfect three-point landing.  
  
All of that took place in the span of less than three seconds. An astounding display of acrobatics and skill.  
  
The moment was quite suddenly ruined by the icy blast that came from right behind him, encasing him in ice, preserving the smirk on his face.  
  
_Wow, that was lame._  
  
Sabah gasped, lowering her sword, which stopped glowing. Taylor would have facepalmed, but she was busy reloading. The Beringel Alec was fighting grunted, pausing. Then it reached for the block of ice with Alec in it, grabbing it with both hands, and threw it at Rachel, who was chasing the Grimm that had stolen her battleaxe. She noticed it at the very last second, dropping to the ground. The ice block soared right over her head, hit the ground, and slid for several yards before coming to a stop.  
  
Taylor was interrupted from her observation by the first Beringel, which charged back toward Brian - scratch that, towards _her_. Brian tried to intercept it, but it jumped straight over him, ready to land on top of her. Taylor brought Sting up across her body, braced her other hand against it - a two-handed block - before the entirety of the beast’s weight came crashing down on it. She staggered backward, then fell to her knees as the Grimm kept pushing, crushing her against the ground. Taylor forced all of her Aura to her arms and legs, the only things keeping her from being crushed into a bloody mess of a pancake.  
  
Brian saved her from her predicament. Through the eyes of one of the other Beringels, Taylor saw him reach out and grab the leg of the one she was fighting with both hands, plant his feet, and _pull_ , knocking the Grimm off-balance. Relief filled Taylor’s muscles as weight was lifted off of her arms, allowing her to take one hand off her baton and draw Burn. She pushed forward, stabbing the Beringel’s chest and blasting it point-blank with Sting.  
  
The beast roared, blindly knocking Brian aside and wildly swinging at Taylor, who ducked under the punch. Shaking its head, the Grimm roared again, raising its fists above its head and bringing them down, striking the ground, causing an expanding wave of earth and dust to radiate away from it. Brian was unprepared for it and was knocked back even further, but Taylor was able to leap over it, away from the beast.  
  
She took the opportunity to fire at the Beringel from a distance, striking its head and chest with her Dust charges. It barrelled towards her again, looking just as furious as it had earlier. Fortunately, this time she had a plan. Taylor easily dodged its forward punch, quickly checked her surroundings, knocked the beast’s legs out from under it with a swing of Sting, then slashed through its neck, leaving the head only barely attached. The Grimm stumbled backward, and Taylor roundhouse kicked it back towards Brian, who caught it with a truly dizzying uppercut, finally severing the Beringel’s head from its body, both of which evaporated into thick black smoke. The Grimm vanished from her Semblance’s view.  
  
_That went a lot better than it had any right to_.  
  
Taylor locked eyes with Brian, who seemed only slightly worse for wear. Then they both looked at the rest of their comrades and saw that things were… not going according to plan, but also not going poorly.  
  
Rachel had managed to retrieve her battleaxe from the first Beringel, and was currently fighting in close quarters alongside a large spectral wolf, the same shade of brown as her hair. Taylor assumed it was her Semblance and felt a very brief pang of jealousy. The wolf bit down on the Grimm’s arm, and it responded by slamming it down on the ground repeatedly until it dissolved into brown flecks of dust. Rachel winced, her Aura flickering. Then her axe began clanking, the blades folding inward, the handle retracting, and soon she was holding a double-barrelled shotgun. She waited for the Beringel to swing at her, then ducked, moved in close, and fired it point-blank into the beast’s chest, sending it flying backward into a large black rock.  
  
Sabah was having a tougher time. Taylor could tell that her weapon wasn’t exactly the most durable thing; she was primarily using it as a focus for Dust and Semblance use and occasionally as a slashing tool. Against a massive brutish Grimm such as a Beringel, it wasn’t exactly the best matchup. If she hadn’t turned Alec into a popsicle, she’d probably be having a better time, able to support from the back lines instead of fighting in melee, but as it was, she was only barely surviving. She retreated constantly, bringing up walls of ice and sending waves of frozen spikes at the Grimm, both of which it ignored, simply smashing through them.  
  
Eventually, it caught up to her, grabbing and hurling her straight at Rachel. Sabah just barely managed to stop herself, slashing a curved wall of ice into existence and riding up and over, landing roughly next to the other girl.  
  
“Ouch. Are you okay?” Lily said as she made her way down the hill towards the two students, likely done patching up Lisa. Taylor and Brian joined them moments later as Sabah nodded untruthfully.  
  
“Alright. Taylor and I will take the one on the left,” Brian said. “Can you handle the other one?” A trio of nods.  
  
Taylor wasn’t sure if she should be offended or not that Brian was making a decision for her. On one hand, they were in a time-sensitive combat situation and she probably would’ve done it if he’d asked. And he did seem to have more experience than her… and then she had no more time to be conflicted as the two Beringels roared and charged.  
  
Brian once again met the Grimm’s charge head-on, catching its downward swing and throwing it to the side by the arms, letting it crash against the ground. Taylor moved in afterward, firing Sting at its head.  
  
Meanwhile, the other fight was going pretty well. Rachel was holding the Beringel back from mauling her teammates while the other two supported her - Lily targeted it with arbalest bolts that tore through it like red-hot needles through butter, Sabah blasted both it and the environment with ice to slow it down, making it slip, coating its arm with ice. They seemed like they had the situation well in hand; they worked pretty well together.  
  
Taylor redirected her focus back to the Beringel she was fighting, which had managed to return to its feet despite Brian’s repeated punching. It roared once again ( _Wow_ , Taylor mused, _these things roar a lot_ ) and struck out at Brian, who dodged to the side, then it charged towards her. Taylor managed to push Aura into her legs and jump over it before it slammed into her, bashing it in the head with her baton as she went over.  
  
Brian went back in at it, dodging its blows and giving it his own whenever the opportunity presented itself. The Beringel was unable to hit him, growing wilder and more furious with its swings, eventually jumping back away from him towards the treeline.  
  
Taylor could see the primitive inklings of an idea take shape in its brain as it reached for a nearby tree, hugging it with both arms, and ripping it out of the ground, roots and all. As Brian and Taylor pursued it, the Grimm swung the tree like a baseball bat. Leaves were blown off by the sheer speed of the swing.  
  
Taylor started to duck, but Brian leaped in front of her, his arms in front of his chest, taking the full impact of the massive blow. The tree _snapped_ on impact, half of it continuing along its path, the other half heading right towards Taylor, who didn’t have her Aura prepared, was not ready to take a hit. The projectile struck her in the head, sending her reeling and depleting her Aura by a massive chunk.  
  
Brian managed to just stagger backward, but then the Beringel was on him again, pummeling with the other half of the tree trunk. He couldn’t get close; the Grimm’s improvised weapon provided it much better range than Brian’s fists, and it was a _lot_ stronger. Again and again, Brian took hits and was unable to return them.  
  
Taylor tried to help fight, but her head spun the moment she tried to raise herself above the ground. _Dammit! I can’t just leave Brian to get killed!_ she thought, yet she couldn’t find the strength to stand. All she could do was watch, awkwardly prop herself up with Sting, and hope Brian would make it out okay, mentally berating herself all the while. _I’m not ready for this. I shouldn’t have come. I’m about to get someone killed_.  
  
The Grimm swung the trunk in a massive arc, catching Brian across the chest, sending him spinning backward despite his attempts to block. It followed up with a massive downward stroke, which he was too tired and dizzy to respond to, literally pounding him into the ground like a tent peg. His Aura flickered black.  
  
Frantically, Taylor tried to use her Semblance, attention be damned - it would be worth it if she could save Brian’s life - but her Aura was too low; she couldn’t get a grip on the Grimm in front of her. She wasn’t even sure if she could control a _Creep_ right now. She fired at its back with Sting, but it shrugged it off easily, and then she fell back over again - she still couldn’t stand without it. She tried to yell for help, but the sound came out as a whimper, lost in the din of battle.  
  
The Grimm readied itself for one final smash, raising its weapon above its head…  
  
… and it stayed there.  
  
Taylor was confused. _What is it doing?_ She quickly realized that, no, the Grimm had no idea what was going on either; it was just as confused as her. Growling, it redoubled its efforts to give Brian an early burial, but its arm wouldn’t move more than a couple inches.  
  
_There’s something wrapped around its arm_ , Taylor realized, _that no one can see._  
  
All of a sudden, the Beringel’s arm jerked backward, slamming its tree into its own head, then dropping it. It stumbled backward, then roared as something leaped onto its neck. Taylor couldn’t tell what it was, though the Grimm could sense that _something_ was there.  
  
Taylor connected the dots. _Didn’t Brian say he had an invisible sister?_  
  
She became visible moments later, standing atop the Beringel’s shoulders, a garotte wrapped around its neck. It tried to roar, but couldn’t inhale to do so (though weirdly enough it didn’t actually need to breathe at all). Instead, it just wildly waved its arms through the space where the girl was, causing her to leap off, taking her weapon with her, which suddenly broke in half, then consolidated itself from two whips into two swords.  
  
Taylor tried to move again, and found that she was able to do so, if shakily. Brian actually seemed unconscious, so she made her way towards him, firing at the Grimm with Sting as she went until she ran out of ammo, all the while watching Brian’s sister work on it.  
  
She was both fast and agile, sort of like a bolt of lightning, leaping from one spot to the next, never letting herself get pinned down, striking the Beringel almost constantly. She used both her swords expertly, slashing at joints, transforming them into whips and lashing at its limbs. The Grimm stood almost no chance, as first its right arm was severed, then both of its legs, then it was decapitated in one final sword stroke, dissolving into black smoke.  
  
The girl sheathed both her swords in the sheath at her side, then strutted over to her brother, ignoring Taylor. She muttered something Taylor couldn’t hear, then glanced at the prone form of Lisa, scowling.  
  
Meanwhile, Lily, Sabah, and Rachel were finishing up their own fight. Sabah had managed to almost completely immobilize the Beringel in ice, allowing Lily to slice it in half with a single stroke with her rapier. They grinned at each other until Rachel grunted, pointing at the frozen block with Alec in it, at which point they both grinned again, sheepishly this time, before heading in its direction.  
  
“So, who the fuck are you? Don’t tell me you’re my brother’s partner.”  
  
Taylor glanced up at Brian’s sister, who, she realized belatedly, was a Faunus, with two small goat horns popping out of the back of her head. _Probably should’ve realized earlier, really_ , she couldn’t help but think. Brian was a Faunus, of course his sister would be too. That was simple genetics.  
  
“Why are you staring at my horns? You have a problem with Faunus? With me?” Her tone grew even more confrontational, indignant.  
  
“N-no! Not at all!” Taylor sputtered hastily, shaking her head. “I’m fine with Faunus, I swear.” She also realized that she didn’t know Brian’s sister’s name - she’d talked a bit with Brian on their way to the temple, but he simply hadn’t told her.  
  
The Faunus girl tilted her head, narrowing her eyes, suspicion obvious on her face. “Okaaaay…” she drew out. “As I was saying, who’re you? Whose partner are ya?”  
  
“Um…” Taylor mentally girded herself. “My name is Taylor. I’m your brother’s partner.”  
  
Much like her brother, Aisha’s face flickered between a number of expressions - scratch that, mostly between two expressions: hate and vindictiveness. Then it smoothed out into a simple (fairly attractive, Taylor had to admit) smile. “Well, okay. My name’s Aisha. Great to meet you.”  
  
Now it was Taylor’s turn to be suspicious. Where did her belligerence go? She’d thought that, earlier, the now-named Aisha didn’t want Taylor to be her brother’s partner; the tone of her question seemed like she’d prefer that, yet now she was apparently all fine with it? She found it difficult to believe.  
  
Aisha made her way towards Brian, ignoring Taylor. She bent down, pulled Brian out of his hole, laid him out on the ground, and _slapped_ him right across the face. The Faunus boy’s eyes snapped open and he sputtered, sitting up with a jolt. “Ouch… God, my head.” He raised his hand to his forehead, grimacing in pain. Taylor guessed he’d probably be fine; his Aura seemed to be massive, and while she had seen it flicker from the Beringel’s attacks, Taylor hadn’t seen it _break_.  
  
Taylor glanced to her right, to see Sabah and Lily standing right next to Alec’s icy prison, Rachel standing not far behind. The doll girl removed the blue Dust crystal, which had grown noticeably smaller, from her sword and inserted a red one, then channelled her Aura through the weapon. A beam of flame was emitted from the weapon, melting the ice. It wasn’t long before Alec was free, lying face up in a puddle, shivering.  
  
“God. You guys all suck.”  
  


* * *

  
Another year, another initiation.  
  
“Melissa Meadows. Sophia Haze. Dennis Quartz. Dean Stainless.”  
  
The auditorium was just as packed as it was during orientation, and the excitement levels were even higher. Groups of students huddled together, chatting furiously about initiation, teams and partners. Important things. Many people’s eyes were locked on the large screens above the stage, showing pictures of the students mentioned just above the students themselves.  
  
Ozpin took a deep breath before continuing.  
  
“The four of you retrieved the black snake pieces. From this day onward, you will work together as Team MSDD (Mist), led by… Melissa Meadows!”  
  
_They are a fairly typical team, in many ways. Combat-wise, they have a good balance of firepower, flexibility, and ability - they will be able to take on the vast majority of threats once they have been trained for a couple of years.  
  
However, team cohesiveness will likely be a problem. Miss Haze’s confrontational and predatory attitude could be an issue, particularly since the seemingly less mature Miss Meadows has been chosen as team leader. Hopefully, Mister Quartz and Mister Stainless will rein in her worst tendencies, as well as the… unfortunate views of their leader._  
  
“Sabah Fajar. Alec DuBlanc. Lily Niji. Rachel Oakfur.”  
  
They slowly ascended to the stage. Miss Fajar and Miss Niji both seemed nervous, though they also seemed to be drawing comfort from each other’s presence. Miss Oakfur was about as sociable as she usually was, and Mister DuBlanc was just as bored.  
  
“The four of you retrieved the black oxen pieces. From this day onward, you will work together as Team SLAR (Solar), led by… Sabah Fajar!”  
  
_Once again, a fairly balanced team, combat-wise. Admittedly, it has a couple of weak points, but as the most capable of them, Mister DuBlanc, despite his laziness, will likely help and carry his less-skilled teammates through the more difficult parts of the school year.  
  
The thing to worry about, however, is still Mister DuBlanc. He is a borderline sociopath, likely due to his upbringing, though the fact that he had changed his name and identity in an attempt to distance himself from it was likely a good sign. Even so, it had been of fairly high importance that his team have a strong moral center, hopefully teaching him some morals as well._  
  
“Taylor Monot. Brian Dusk. Aisha Dusk. Lisa Greene, who cannot be with us right now, as she is currently in the infirmary.”  
  
Shame, that. There was only one team-naming ceremony and she would miss it.  
  
As the three students walked up to the stage, Miss Monot seemed uncomfortable, though both of the Dusk siblings didn’t seem to have an issue standing in front of a crowd. Not surprising, that.  
  
“The four of you retrieved the gold monkey pieces. From this day onward, you will work together as Team BALT (Basalt), led by… Brian Dusk!”  
  
_Team BALT has the potential to become the most effective team at Beacon in their year - Miss Greene’s Semblance is a powerful multiplier, Mister Dusk is one of the more skilled fighters in their year, his sister is only slightly less, and Miss Monot has more drive and determination that several other students put together, if not any formal training.  
  
Yet again, the issues are all mental. Both Mister Dusk and Miss Greene are fairly well-adjusted, for Huntsmen students - yes, they have their kinks, but those will be ironed out without too much issue - but Miss Monot is, to be blunt, a suicidal depressed wreck, while Miss Dusk is a headstrong reckless radical. While it is possible that they will moderate each other without assistance, it is more likely that they will come into conflict, exacerbating both problems. Action will almost certainly be necessary.  
  
In particular, the first week or so may be a bit… rough, due to Miss Greene’s current hospitalization. Keep an eye on them._  
  
Peter collapsed his Scroll, then placed it in his back pocket, his thick brow furrowed, deep in thought.  
  
As he watched, over the din of the crowd, he saw Ozpin smile, speaking quietly to himself, “This is shaping up to be an exciting year.”  
  
Drat. That was unlikely to be a good thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Goddamn this took a really long time, mostly because I kept getting distracted. More than a month late. I'm so sorry.
> 
> The 'relics' were chosen based on the animals of the Chinese lunar calendar, alternating black and gold each year - gold monkey, black rooster, gold dog, black pig etc.
> 
> I kind of wanted to do this chapter from Ozpin's perspective... but on the other hand, I think I'll save it for later. Using it now would be a waste.
> 
> Thanks to all of you wonderful commenters for help with team names, all the wonderful folks in the Cauldron Discord for workshopping help, as well as Juff for beta-ing this chapter.


	7. School is Hell, Part One

Taylor strode onto the stage, hands in her pockets, hood over her hair, eyes locked on her opponent.  
  
Time for her first real fight against another student; Sophia didn’t count. Despite her (relatively) placid outward appearance, she was more than a bit nervous. A lot more than a bit, actually. Butterflies caused miniature hurricanes in her stomach, her heart was racing a mile - no, _two_ miles a minute - and more colorful anxiety-related metaphors.  
  
Her only saving grace was that she genuinely had prepared for this moment to the best of her ability, honing her skills at fighting Grimm, which while not exactly equivalent to fighting people, was probably close enough - they required similar skills: agility, reflexes, raw strength, pattern recognition, Aura amount and ability to use it, that kind of thing.  
  
She’d been improving all of those in her training sessions — outrunning Beowolves, dodging razor-sharp Nevermore feathers, fighting hand to hand against Ursai. She’d even occasionally used her Semblance much more subtly, not controlling Grimm directly but instead merely bringing them in her vague direction, allowing her to learn how to fight them in their natural state, more or less.  
  
It seemed that all of her training had allowed her to live through initiation and sneak into Beacon, if only barely. Whether or not it would allow her to survive against Melissa ‘Missy’ Meadows and her honking _huge_ laser cannon… well, she had her doubts.  
  
“Good luck, Taylor. I don’t intend to go easy on you.” The other girl grinned widely, looking as if she was on the verge of laughter, grass-green eyes wide and full of excitement. Her weapon was somehow - _somehow_ \- slung over her shoulder in a way that made _no sense_. The size… the dimensions…  
  
Taylor shook her head and tried to focus on the parts of her opponent that weren’t her physics-defying laser cannon. She wore a mostly white skirt patterned by green vines that crept up and down the fabric, merging with the green breastplate panels above and contrasting with the bare legs beneath. More dark green body armor adorned her shoulders, arms, and legs. Her hair was a short and wavy blonde.  
  
 _The biggest thing to worry about is that laser cannon. I’m not sure_ exactly _how powerful it is, but given what it did in the locker room a couple days ago, it’s probably pretty dangerous. Need to focus on dodging that thing. She doesn’t seem to have a lot of melee options though, so maybe I should try to stay close to her, hamper her movement._  
  
Mind made up, Taylor drew Sting from its holder and snapped it out to its full length at her side, index finger on the trigger. She left Burn in its scabbard for now; she didn’t think Missy had seen it yet and wanted to save it as a potential last resort.  
She tried to come up with a witty retort, but came up blank, and so said nothing at all. Even if she had come up with something, she didn’t trust herself to avoid looking like a fool while saying it.  
  
She glanced towards Professor Goodwitch at the side of the arena, who was staring down at her Scroll, then at the two holographic portraits above them, one for her and one for her opponent. The Aura bars beneath them were both green, though Missy’s was slightly lower than full.  
  
 _Her Semblance._ _She must be using her Semblance._  
  
Could it have something to do with the way that her weapon’s very existence made her want to puke? Maybe she was making it lighter somehow? Changing its dimensions?  
  
Taylor glanced to the right, where her fellow students were sitting. Brian and Aisha were sitting close to the stage, the former looking attentive, the latter just plain bored. Team SLAR was sitting above and behind them, all watching intently, as one might expect.  
  
The lights in the room dimmed, save for the spotlight directly above the two, reducing the crowd to vague silhouettes. Professor Goodwitch looked up from her Scroll and spoke.  
  
“Begin.”  
  
Taylor immediately pushed off with both legs towards her opponent, swinging Sting with both hands. Missy managed to get her cannon in the way just in time to prevent a direct blow to her face and a resounding _CLANG_ of metal on metal rang throughout the auditorium. Taylor pushed off of Missy’s weapon, flipped backwards, and landed back on her feet, then immediately went in for another blow, dashing forwards and sweeping her baton past her opponent’s legs, sending her sprawling forwards.  
  
Taylor spun back around as soon as she stopped, seeing that Missy had already made it back to her feet, leaning on her… _how did that even work?_ Her weapon had somehow twisted, elongated, stretched itself out… but it somehow still looked exactly the same? She couldn’t wrap her head around how Missy wrapped her hands around the whole thing! Taylor felt a headache building. It had to be the other girl’s Semblance; that effect was flat-out unnatural.  
  
She rushed in for another strike, but the other girl was more prepared this time. Just before Taylor could make contact, Missy managed to bring her weapon - her _club_ \- around and bash her in the side just as hard as the Beringel had, sending her reeling, completely redirecting her momentum to the side. She plowed into the ground for several meters before she found a way to stop herself, Missy giggling all the while.  
  
 _Ouch. How much does that thing_ weigh _? It can’t be less than a ton!_  
  
As Taylor stood back up, she cursed and flung herself to the right, having noticed Missy’s cannon, which was planted on the ground. Arguably more important was its ominously glowing cannon barrel. It turned out to be a good decision as a massive beam of red light (Fire Dust, she couldn’t help but note) came blasting outwards a split second later, annihilating the space she’d just been in. Still in a bit of a daze, Taylor watched the beam continue until it struck the wall, melting the rock at a tremendous rate before it was shut off.  
  
It was at this point that Taylor realized that while getting clobbered by the cannon was painful, it couldn’t compare to being blasted by _that_. She needed to prevent Missy from firing that thing, or, if she couldn’t, she needed to avoid getting in the way.  
  
She needed to reassess, try to figure out a better course of action against this particular opponent.  
  
While she thought, Taylor rushed towards the other girl, making as if to strike her head again. Once again, Missy raised her weapon and warped it, trying to block the blow. Luckily, Taylor wasn’t actually going for that, instead slamming Sting straight down onto the laser cannon and pushing upward. Combined with her forward momentum, she managed to flip over the other girl, land behind her, then strike at her unprotected back.  
  
Missy’s weakness was that she was just slow. In close quarters, with the sheer bulk and weight of her weapon, she simply couldn’t move it fast enough to do much of anything with it within the timeframes Huntsmen usually fought, even with whatever help her Semblance granted - at least, that was what Taylor suspected and hoped. At the same time, at range, her weapon took so long to charge up that by the time it could fire, her opponent had moved out of the way. It was kind of impractical, now that she was thinking about it.  
  
Either way, if Taylor could just stay a step ahead, never stopping, striking quickly and frequently, she might just be able to win this. She glanced towards the Aura readings, surprised to see that Missy’s was actually lower than hers, if only by a percentage point or two. Either her Semblance was more taxing than she let on, her baton strikes were more damaging than Taylor had thought, or she had less Aura than the average student - maybe even all three.  
  
Just as Missy turned around, Taylor swung Sting towards her head, catching her in the ear and finally eliciting an, “Augh!” from the other girl, who had been smiling widely up to this point. She tried to retaliate by swinging her cannon around her but it wasn’t hard for Taylor to duck under it before it connected, letting out a flurry of blows to her lower half in the process.  
  
 _This isn’t going too badly_ , she almost thought, before she mentally kicked herself for tempting fate.  
  
Then Missy physically kicked her in the face, which hurt a lot more than one might expect from a girl of her size (though to be fair, it probably took a _lot_ of strength to lug that thing around). Surprised, Taylor fell backwards and landed on her ass.  
  
Missy didn’t waste the opportunity, bringing her cannon around for another attack, this one a downward swing threatening to pound her into the ground like a very flat tent peg. Taylor rolled to the side, just barely dodging the literally earth-shattering blow…  
  
...except she _didn’t_. Despite the fact that she was sure she’d pushed off enough to avoid receiving the tent peg experience, the two-ton laser cannon still smashed her _into_ the floor of the arena, embedding her into its surface, leaving a Taylor-shaped impression among the web of cracks.  
  
The sheer crushing force had probably knocked out a third of her Aura.  
  
A small part of her that wasn’t screaming in pain noted that Missy’s Semblance must’ve altered the size of, or more likely returned to its original dimensions, her laser cannon, making it large enough to hit her. A slightly larger part was also complaining about how unfair it was that she got _Grimm Control_ as a Semblance while this girl got… whatever the fuck it was.  
  
The cannon rose off of her and both of those parts, plus the rest of the ‘still screaming’ parts quickly came to a consensus: _Let’s not let that happen again._  
  
The question was ‘how’. Taylor didn’t want to try rolling away again, for fear that Missy’s space warping Semblance would just let her smash her again. She didn’t think she was strong enough to stop the massive hunk of metal in its tracks; not only was the other girl stronger than her, she had gravity on her side. She could try to shoot her opponent with Sting, but there was no guarantee that would stop her from being squashed like a blood-filled grape regardless. That said, looking at her baton gave her an idea.  
  
As the green-clad girl’s weapon descended again, Taylor planted Sting into one of the many cracks in the rock, perpendicular to the ground, pushed as much Aura as she could into the baton, gripped it with both hands, and prayed it wouldn’t collapse.  
  
The laser cannon struck with the force of a small explosion, throwing dust and rock high into the air, nearly deafening her. But when it all settled, the important thing was that she didn’t feel like a pancake. Her buffer had worked. Missy’s weapon had run into Sting before it could crush Taylor, pounding it several inches into the ground in the process.  
  
Before the other girl could finish hammering the nail that was her baton deep enough to crush her anyway, Taylor rolled forwards into Missy, brushing against the underside of the cannon in the process (which was surprisingly cool for something that launched such destructive beams). She quickly drew Burn from its scabbard and slashed at the other girl’s bare thighs, just above the armor, eliciting another startled “Augh!”  
  
While Missy was distracted, Taylor jerked her head up to glance at the Aura readings for both of them, and found something surprising: while her guess regarding how much Aura Missy’s attacks had taken off was more or less correct, their Aura levels were still surprisingly similar, though Missy was in the lead this time.  
  
Her gaze turned back to Missy, who had somehow made her way all the way to the other end of the arena in the split second she’d been glancing away. Taylor was trying to puzzle out how exactly she’d done that when the other girl spoke.  
  
“Well, it’s been a good fight, but it ends now.” Missy’s grin had returned to her face as she set her cannon back down on the ground. Taylor felt a spike of alarm as it once again started to glow and desperately tumbled to the right, once again just barely dodging the deadly laser beam.  
  
Rolling to her feet, she found herself standing right next to Sting, still embedded deeply into the ground. She made an effort to lever it out, but failed to do so: it was well and truly stuck. Then she had to abandon it for good as she flung herself to the side, just barely dodging another laser, then another.  
  
 _I’m not going to win this way. Missy’s just going to keep blasting at me, and I can’t keep dodging forever. I need to get in close, get more control over the fight._  
  
With that, Taylor dodged another laser beam and pushed off towards her opponent, Burn ready to slash, stab, and generally go after any opening she could get at.  
  
Yet, as she landed on the shattered ground halfway between her and her opponent, she found herself confused. The arc of her jump should’ve ended with her directly on top of the other girl, just like it had the last two times. Had she screwed something up this time around?  
  
Taylor tried running towards the other girl instead, but still found herself getting nowhere; she seemed just as far away as when she’d started. She glanced to her sides, which immediately caused her headache to return. The world around her was… stretched, for lack of a better term. Almost as if a three-dimensional paintbrush had been smeared across her surroundings, turning everything into multicolored blurs.  
  
She tried looking back towards the green-clad girl and determined that yes, she was _definitely_ farther away now. Also, her cannon’s barrel was about to fire again and she really needed to dodge.  
  
Lacking any better options, Taylor flung herself into the distortion to her right. At first, it seemed to have been the right choice, as the laser beam looked as if it was about to miss. Then it _curved_ , and then Taylor’s world became fire, pain, and M. C. Escher’s wonderland.  
  


* * *

  
Taylor slowly sat back up, feeling as if her whole body was on fire. Then she remembered that it fucking _had been_ , for a moment.  
  
“Hey! Are you okay?”  
  
It took her a second to place the young-sounding voice as Missy’s. Taylor looked to her right to see the girl bent slightly over, looking at her with concern. Professor Goodwitch stood further behind her, tapping her Scroll. The lights around them had come back on, allowing her to see Brian, Aisha, and the rest of the students again.  
  
“Yeah… I think so,” she eventually replied. Her Aura was still intact, if quite low, so the pain would fade in time.  
  
“You need help?” Missy asked, reaching out her hand to help Taylor up. She shook her head and remained seated, pointedly ignoring it. Eventually, the other girl dropped it back down to her side.  
  
Professor Goodwitch looked up from her Scroll, tucking the device away. “Well done, Miss Meadows.” She then turned towards the remaining students, raising her voice. “Alright, now. Would anyone like to volunteer to go next?”  
  
The redheaded boy, Dennis, raised his hand. Not long afterward, Aisha did as well, much to Taylor’s surprise.  
  
“Alright then. Head to the locker rooms to change and retrieve your weapons. Miss Monot and Miss Meadows, you should do the same.” The professor then turned back to the arena, uncollapsing her riding crop and channeling her Semblance through it, repairing the damaged floor and wall. Sting was pulled from the stone and placed in front of Taylor’s feet, and she picked it up gratefully.  
  
Taylor nodded and slowly rose to her feet, wincing in pain. Her skin still felt like it was on fire all over, not just from the final laser blast but also from the repeated bludgeoning. Even so, that wasn’t what occupied her thoughts as she briskly made her way towards the exit, nearly missing Missy’s comment: “Thanks for the fight; it was fun.”  
  
What really hurt was how she’d given her all, spent every ounce of energy and ingenuity available to her, and had still been completely and utterly crushed, literally and figuratively. Sure, it may not have seemed like it to an outward observer, but Taylor knew better.  
  
That trick she’d pulled at the end with her Semblance? Missy probably could have done that at the very beginning of the match, blowing her away before she had the chance to fight. That whole spar? Missy had been going _easy_ on her.  
  
Maybe she could have stalled more? Moved around faster? Hit harder? None of them seemed like they would’ve worked, unless taken to absolutely ridiculous levels, something she was unwilling to do.  
  
She couldn’t think of any ways she could’ve done better.  
  


* * *

  
Taylor had just finished putting away her weapons and relocking her locker when Missy caught up to her.  
  
“Hey! Taylor! I wanted to talk to you; do you mind?” She sounded both winded and genuinely concerned, though Taylor hadn’t had much experience with the latter; she could’ve been mistaken. Even so, she didn’t feel like there could be any harm from letting her speak, so she nodded.  
  
Missy smiled that bright smile of hers, then cast her eyes down towards the ground, her expression reverting to something more somber. “Great! I wanted to apologize for Monday. I was kind of a jerk to you and I’m sorry about that.”  
  
She must’ve mistaken Taylor’s surprised silence for an incredulous one, because she then continued, a little faster, “I mean, I’m not like that everyday! I was really tired and worried about what the teachers would think and that Alec guy was teasing me for my height - not that that _excuses_ my poor behavior, but that’s the reason behind it. Again, I’m sorry.”  
  
Taylor tried to formulate a response, but Missy beat her to the punch once again. “Look, if there’s anything you need, anything I can help you with, don’t be afraid to ask. My behavior on Monday was _atrocious_ and a favor is the least I can do for you.”  
  
She flashed another winning smile.  
  
Taylor still wasn’t sure what to say, but felt that she should do _something_ \- Missy was looking more anxious with every passing moment. Taylor nodded, slowly, then thought to say, “Um, it’s fine, I guess.” Almost as an afterthought, she added, “What is your Semblance, anyway?”  
  
The other girl sighed in obvious relief. “Thanks. And, um, as for my Semblance, I call it Spatial Distortion. It lets me twist space around me, make things bigger and smaller, make distances longer or smaller. Doesn’t reduce weight though, which makes carrying Ground Zero really suck - um, that’s my weapon, by the way. It’s a modified laser turret, originally meant for melting through Goliaths.”  
  
Taylor nodded, thinking. That explained all the, well, spatial distortions. She must’ve used it to travel quickly, to make her cannon usable as a melee weapon, and probably much more she hadn’t even noticed.  
  
“Oh,” she eventually replied, before starting to turn away to change back into her school uniform. However, it turned out that Missy wasn’t quite done.  
  
“Oh, one more thing,” she said. “I wanted to express my condolences about your team’s composition.”  
  
Taylor was confused. What did she mean? Was she implying Brian and Aisha and Lisa were weaker than her, somehow? Because if anything, _she_ was weaker than _them_ \- she was pretty sure either Brian or Aisha could easily kick her ass to the curb if they wanted to, and while she’d never seen Lisa fight, she was still pretty sure she could do the same as well.  
  
“What?” Taylor said, eloquently.  
  
“You’ve got not one, but _two_ Faunus on your team! That has to suck.” Missy made a distasteful expression, as if the very thought was repulsive. Then she backpedaled, saying, “Oh god that sounds terrible; sorry. I mean, um, statistically speaking, Faunus students are what, like three fourths as likely to graduate compared to humans; it’s just facts.”  
  
Missy winced, then made an expression that Taylor loosely translated into ‘I want to slap myself; I just did a stupid’. “Okay, that still sounds horrible. Ugh, sorry. Your furry teammates are probably fine; I’ve really got nothing against animals. It’s just…” She sighed. “God, I’m terrible at this.”  
  
Taylor wasn’t sure how the other girl could sound so cute while saying something so disgusting. Distantly, a cynical part of her figured that of _course_ this girl she’d been about to consider a potential friend would be a racist.  
  
Her dad ( _she still needed to call him_ ) tended to be pretty fair when it came to dealing with Faunus - he worked as head of hiring for a construction company, and, as far as she could tell, never discriminated against anyone based on their race. He’d taught her to do the same, though she hadn’t had the opportunity to really show it.  
  
She’d been bullied by both Faunus and humans, after all. It wasn’t like she could be biased about this.  
  
Either way, while Taylor was fairly certain _she_ wasn’t particularly racist, she also knew that wasn’t even close to true for the rest of Vale. She’d seen Faunus in the streets being mocked and ridiculed, Faunus as classmates being bullied and stolen from, read about the statistics regarding crimes committed against and by them, seen how the law treated them unequally. It was all so unfair for them. She could (probably) understand why some Faunus went up and joined the White Fang - why should you conform to society’s rules when society hates you?  
  
The point was, she knew racism was widespread in Remnant. And she didn’t know how to respond to Missy’s bigoted sympathy without… she wasn’t even sure what the consequences of doing that incorrectly would be, she just didn’t want them.  
  
If Taylor just told her off here and now, she could make an enemy. Telling a teacher probably wouldn’t help; there was no guarantee they’d listen to her and even less guarantee they’d do something about it.  
  
Eventually, she decided to play along for now, maybe try to talk to the other girl about it more later. Maybe she could change her mind, or at least help her be a little more self aware ( _ironic, coming from her)_? She had no idea, but confronting her now probably wasn’t the best choice. Good things came to those who waited, right?  
  
So she nodded politely, excused herself to change, and exited the locker room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay... think I'll topic the easy topics before I do the harder ones.
> 
> During the drafting phase of this chapter, I was flip-flopping a lot on who I should have Taylor spar against, as well as the result of said spar. The end result of all this required alienating Aisha even more, but the exact method of doing so was really up in the air for a while. I considered having Taylor spar against Sophia, Alec, Rachel, and Aisha, before eventually settling on Missy.
> 
> Then I considered their 'stats' so to speak, and found myself really struggling to pull a victory out for Taylor here, oddly enough. The more I thought about it, the more I came to realize that Taylor... can't win against any of her classmates in a controlled environment. I've written her as a Jack of All Stats - slightly above average in everything, but specializing in nothing. She doesn't have the stellar endurance of Brian or Dean, she's not as fast as Aisha, she doesn't have the firepower of Missy or Lisa - this makes her doomed to lose in almost any controlled encounter. Sure, she's a good tactician, but that doesn't help when you don't have any advantages to take advantage of.
> 
> Thankfully, I ended up being able to plot around this and simply chalked it up as a loss.
> 
> And now... for the racism. *sigh*
> 
> First off, thanks to Juff and sigravig for being excellent betas and helping me with some egregious errors I was going to make in the second part of this chapter.
> 
> Originally, Missy was going to have significantly more invective-filled and hateful dialogue. Thankfully, both sig and Juff pointed out that it made Missy sound almost cartoonlike, so I ended up changing it quite a bit, basing it more around my actual experience with a certain racist I met this one time. Even so, she still feels super out of character, but at this point I'm too tired to try changing it any further.
> 
> I'd also quickly like to point out that what Missy does is by no means okay. Using statistics, even 'accurate' ones, to support your racist beliefs is not a good thing. Nor is using slurs, even if they're accidental. I'll go into more detail later.
> 
> Ugh, too tired to continue this author's note. Ask questions if you'd like.


	8. School is Hell, Part Two

A week passed by at an excruciatingly slow pace, every single second feeling like a minute. It was almost as if the timestream had turned to thick sludge and Taylor had to wade through seven days of it without a swimsuit, getting timestream all over her clothes and things, weighing her down in misery and exhaustion and also juice. Literal juice. Turned out the flow of time tasted like grape and orange. Who knew?

She was being snide. She couldn’t blame the metaphysical concept of time for the fact that she was currently drenched in sticky-sweet flavored liquid.

What - or rather, who - she _could_ blame was currently up in Team BALT’s room. Her room, ostensibly, though she certainly didn’t feel at home there.

As she slowly trudged up the stairs, trailing juice as she went, she couldn’t help but reflect on how naive, how _wrong_ she had been, all these months. No matter what she did, where she went, things were still the same. Her dream had turned out to be just a foolish fantasy after all. She wasn’t sure why she was so surprised, now that she thought about it. She’d always known that. Perhaps the thrill of passing the entrance exams had overtaken her, breaking through her hard-earned pessimism, letting her forget her fears for just a moment before reality came crashing back down.

And yet… things hadn’t looked quite this bleak a week ago.

After the fight with the Beringels had concluded, most of the students comprising their group weren’t exactly in great shape—Lisa, obviously, had received the worst of the injuries that day (the headmaster really had been serious about the teachers not intervening), but even Lily was at only 50%, the highest Aura percentage out of all of them outside of Alec, who obviously hadn’t fought. None of them were looking forward to trekking all the way back to the Beacon cliffside, likely fighting against even more Grimm along the way.

Luckily for them, that hadn’t happened. Right as the group started to argue about who would carry their most wounded party member, two more students emerged from the treeline, both boys in armor, introducing themselves as Dennis and Dean. They’d taken significantly less damage to their Aura than Taylor and company had and, after grabbing a relic, both agreed to help carry Lisa and to help fend off any further Grimm attacks.

And that was how they had gotten back to where they’d started without further incident. Yes, they’d run into a couple of Beowolves and Ursai, but the group of nine students had been more than up to the task of taking care of them.

Taylor had felt guilty about not warning the group about the Grimms’ locations using her Semblance, but it really was for the best that she didn’t reveal that unless it was absolutely necessary. Everyone ended up fine, anyway, and she had no idea how they’d treat her if they knew.

The second they’d returned to Beacon, Professor Goodwitch had lifted Lisa out of Dennis’s fireman’s carry with her Semblance and spirited her directly to the infirmary. Taylor would later be told that the blonde girl was expected to fully recover within a week, thanks to good treatment and Aura, but in the moment they’d all been told to hustle off back to the grand hall, gather their things, and prepare for the team announcement ceremony. 

Taylor, despite her worry for the girl she tentatively called a friend, had done as instructed.

The group of nine students had started going back together, though once they’d reached the great hall everyone immediately split up to gather their belongings. Taylor had quickly lost track of everyone in the great hustle and bustle of other students that had returned earlier than them, done better than them.

It had taken a couple minutes to realize that Sophia was one of them, and that she was heading towards her. With her was the blonde girl—‘Melissa’—she’d encountered that morning in the locker room. Taylor had never seen her before Beacon; how did she know Sophia? Were they friends? Partners? Neither of them were armed, but that was little relief.

Sophia looked much the same as she had the last Taylor had seen her. Her silver chestplate was flecked with specks of mud and her hood was down, yes, but otherwise she looked none the worse for wear. Taylor wondered if her Aura percentage was larger than her own at the moment (it probably was, but she would’ve felt better if it wasn’t).

“You’re still here,” Sophia stated, once she got within earshot. She said it calmly, matter-of-factly, without a trace of aggressiveness—not what Taylor expected.

Lacking a better response, Taylor replied, “Yes. I am.”

Her eyes wandered over to the blonde she would later come to know as Missy. She wore an expression of slight discomfort, hands clenching at her combat skirt and gaze vaguely directed at nothing. She remained silent.

“Hey, talking to you here,” Sophia said, helpfully reminding Taylor that she was in the conversation. “I bet you want to know why I’m bothering to talk to you, right?”  
  
She didn’t wait for a response before continuing: “Well, it’s simple. I expected you to fail out and die, but instead, you passed. Sure, you needed two whole teams worth of people to do it, but I’m still impressed. I can respect that.”

Taylor didn’t know how to respond to that. In fact, she was having difficulty comprehending the whole situation at the moment - Sophia Haze, giving her compliments? Respecting her? What had the world come to?

Sophia eventually continued, undaunted by Taylor’s blank expression, “Anyway, I wanted to offer you some support, help if you want it. Not sure how I didn’t notice, but you’ve been training, probably by yourself. If you ever want help…” She vaguely gestured towards herself, putting her hood back up in the same motion. “...then you know who to ask. All that shit from last year? Water under the bridge, if you don’t mind.”

As Sophia turned to leave, Taylor felt a spike of irrational - no, _completely_ rational - rage; how _dare_ she just… brush aside all the shit she’d done to her? The violence, the insults, the vandalism, the robberies - what the _fuck_ , Sophia?

“No. Just… no.”

Sophia stopped, turning her head slightly. Her wide hood stopped Taylor from seeing the other girl’s facial expression, but frankly, she didn’t really care.

“I don’t want your help. I don’t want anything to do with you. Fuck off and leave me alone.”

Either Taylor’s vehement tone or the contents of her rejection—possibly both—jarred ‘Melissa’ out of her nervous reverie. She stared at Taylor like she was seeing her for the first time, light green eyes open wide, then shifted her gaze to Sophia.

“Hrgh. You sure about that?” Sophia’s voice had taken a dangerous undertone, one Taylor was much more familiar with. A threat.

“Yes.” What else was there to say, really? It wasn’t like she could take it back. She’d started down this road, now she was going to follow through, for good or ill.

And yet, the catharsis Taylor had been expecting for finally telling off that bitch, rejecting her presence in her life… it didn’t come. All she could find within her was a sad, hollow sense of dread. She’d started down this road. Now she had to follow through. For good or ill.

Sophia laughed. It was a cruel, harsh, sound, like metal scraping against concrete.

“Fine. Have it your way. But don’t start whining if you can’t handle the consequences.”  
  
And with that, with a dramatic swoosh of her cloak, Sophia was gone, lost in the crowd. ‘Melissa’, on the other hand, seemed torn, looking back and forth between Taylor and the spot where Sophia had just been. She sighed, shooting Taylor one last look of pity, before taking her leave as well.

The team announcement ceremony started at about that time, and then there was a whole lot more waiting.

Afterwards, Professor Aquila, who introduced herself as their would-be Stealth & Security teacher, showed the newly formed teams to their rooms. BALT and SLAR had been the very last on the list, and thus got the highest spots in the Beacon dorms—top floor rooms, right across from each other.

There had been introductions, which Taylor had mostly glossed over, providing bare minimum details about herself and her interests. She wondered what it would be like if Lisa had been there, what she would’ve added to the group dynamic of her and the two Faunus, both of which seemed slightly uncomfortable with the lone human in their midst, though in different ways.

Brian was stiff, reserved, distant, like a relative seen once a year whose name you kept forgetting. He seemed content saying as little as possible; throughout the half dozen rounds of short, sparse small talk, he only took the initiative for the first of them, when he asked about her interests. During the rest, he either didn't speak at all or gave curt, one-sentence non-answers, communicating nearly nothing other than the words he spoke aloud.

Aisha, on the other hand, was the driving force behind all the socialization that night, aggressively pushing and prodding Taylor for answers, her brother almost an afterthought. Her questions were mainly related to Faunus, and almost accusatory, many of them Catch-22’s with seemingly no ‘correct’ answer. Much like her brother, however, she managed to avoid revealing much information about herself—by the end of the night, basically all Taylor knew about Aisha was that she was born in Vacuo, hadn’t gone to a combat school, and liked punk rock—her favorite band was Jean Jett and the Bluehearts, apparently.

When she’d finally managed to escape the ‘conversation’ and get ready for bed, she was utterly drained in every way: emotionally, mentally, and physically. And yet, she’d still had hope for what tomorrow might bring.

It didn’t take long for her to collapse into a dreamless sleep.

The next morning, nothing much of consequence actually occurred—Taylor went to breakfast, then to her first class: Grimm Studies, taught by Peter Port, one of the most banal and self-absorbed lecturers she’d ever encountered in her years of schooling. Still, given he was teaching at _Beacon_ and had somehow managed to capture a live Boarbartusk, something she’d been curious about when she’d woken up but eventually decided to ignore, Taylor assumed he was competent.

Sabah ended up volunteering to dispatch the Grimm and did so, eventually. Then they were on to their next class, Stealth & Security. Professor Aquila was friendly, at least, though they didn’t cover much in terms of stealth nor security. It seemed that first days at schools full of going over curriculums were universal.

Most of the rest of the day went like that — go to class, meet instructor Peach/Cobalt/Oobleck/Greene (no relation to Lisa, apparently), get lectured on the curriculum, rinse and repeat. Her teammates didn’t really talk to her, nor did she them.

At least, that was the trend up until the very last class of the day: Combat, with Professor Goodwitch, when she’d fought and lost against Missy and watched a couple of other students spar as well—Aisha against Dennis, Lily facing someone she didn’t know, Dean versus Rachel.

That’s when the trouble started. After Rachel finished mopping the floor with Dean’s armored body, the bell finally rang and Goodwitch dismissed class. Taylor was making her way out of the classroom, when, quite suddenly, her leg caught on… something. She tripped and fell flat on her face, earning the laughter of several nearby students.

Taylor certainly didn’t enjoy that, but it was nothing new—she’d gone through worse. As long as it was an isolated occurrence, it wouldn’t even be noteworthy.

But it wasn’t.

At dinner, she tripped again, slamming mashed potatoes into a large student’s face, nearly starting a fight. While exploring the library, she set aside her notebook and then became completely unable to find it again. When she tried to visit Lisa in the infirmary, Professor Peach accused her of stealing sap jars, and seemingly nothing she said would convince the woman otherwise, eventually leading to her getting banned.

She was rapidly re-earning a reputation for being clumsy, a liar, and a troublemaker, something she’d specifically come to Beacon to _avoid_. It was beyond irritating, bordering maddening, especially since every time Taylor ‘tripped’ and dropped all her things, every time her stuff mysteriously disappeared, her suspicions grew: someone had to be causing this. Either that, or she’d suddenly become the biggest bad luck charm this side of Vale, and she knew which of those was more likely.

She also had a fairly good idea who the culprit was—someone who didn’t like her and had an invisibility Semblance? Hm, did she know anybody like that? —though it took four more days to catch her in the act.

In those four days, Taylor lost two more notebooks, a dinner, sleep, her lunch, free time (thanks to a detention), against Lily, Alec, and some third girl she could not remember the name of in spars, and whatever shreds of optimism she had left, causing time to slow to a snail’s pace, seemingly. When she finally did catch Aisha slashing open her backpack to steal her… she didn’t even know; could’ve been her knife or her gummy worms, at that point - she wasn’t relieved. Just resigned and sad, just like she’d been with Sophia—who, oddly enough, had not caused her any trouble whatsoever.

Taylor hadn’t confronted Aisha at that moment, instead taking the rest of the night off to think. And the entire next day as well, just for good measure.

What was she going to do?

Telling a teacher was right out. Sure, the instructors she had now might be _Beacon_ professors, and thus better than the ones she’d had in the city in some nebulous way, but at the end of the day, they were still teachers. She hadn’t given them much reason to trust her more than the Faunus girl, and frankly, she didn’t trust them much either.

Tattling to Brian seemed like an even worse idea. He didn’t like her one bit, and the only times they’d interacted over the past week had been professional, low-stakes engagements. Going up to him and telling him that his two-years-younger sister was bullying her? She didn’t imagine he’d react well.

She _very_ briefly considered going to Missy for advice and/or help, but given what she’d seen of the girl, she didn’t think the situation would be resolved to anyone’s satisfaction if she did that. Plus, Taylor was pretty sure that probably would be a hate crime of some sort - going up to a known racist and asking for help dealing with a Faunus girl? No. Out of the question.

She’d even considered waiting the extra day for Lisa to get out of the infirmary, ask her for advice. In fact, she’d been on track to do exactly that, until Aisha had dumped what seemed like an entire party’s worth of juice on her while she was in the bathroom. It felt like a final straw, one final escalation she just could not stand. She wanted to resolve this today. She’d procrastinated long enough.

Eventually, Taylor decided there was only one acceptable option: talk to Aisha, girl-to-girl, and hopefully resolve something that way. She wasn’t looking forward to it, but it was better than seemingly all her other options, by far.

Taylor finally reached the top floor of the Beacon dorms, made her way down towards the room, opened the door.

Aisha, wearing her school uniform, was lying on top of her bed in her corner of the room, bouncing a rubber ball against the ceiling. To her side was the bed that would eventually become Lisa’s, though at the moment it was just gathering dust.

The other side of the room had Brian and Taylor’s beds. Brian’s was clinically made, as always, while Taylor’s was mussed and messy, sheets hanging halfway off. She couldn’t find the motivation to fix it, it wasn’t like anyone cared.

The room was sparsely decorated, and much too large for the three of them. All the members of Team BALT had packed fairly lightly, and didn’t have much of anything to strew about the room, unlike, say, Alec, who had brought an entire television with him, for some reason.

Aisha feigned sympathy upon Taylor’s arrival, gasping, “Oh my gosh, Taylor, what happened to you? What happened to your clothes?” She pretended to look her up and down. “Hm… actually, might be an improvement. You could do with some extra color.”

Taylor ignored her, tried to formulate the words in her head in the most eloquent way, before giving up and simply spitting, “I want you to stop fucking with me.”

The other girl gasped in faux-shock, almost a perfectly innocent expression on her face, though she couldn’t completely stop a smile from leaking through. “What do you mean?"

“I know you’ve been stealing my stuff, pushing me over, pranking me, ruining my homework - I want you to stop.” They were on a team together; she shouldn’t have to deal with this bullshit.

Aisha stopped bouncing her ball and sat up, finally giving the issue her full attention. “First off, I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she lied. “Have you considered you’re just clumsy, stupid, and forgetful?” She shrugged in a way that seemed calculated just to piss her off.

“Second, even if I _was_ behind any of your… issues… whatcha gonna do about it? Tell a teacher? My bro?” She scanned Taylor’s expression, before adopting a more bemused expression. “Thought not. They’d take my side, not yours, of course. Because I didn’t do anything and you’re just making shit up.”

Taylor wasn’t sure what was more irritating: the fact that Aisha still hadn’t directly admitted to trying to ruin her life, or the fact that she was right.

“Got any proof? No? Well, then. Try managing your own problems instead of blaming them on innocent Faunus, for a change.” The message would’ve been more impactful if not for the growing shit-eating grin on Aisha’s face.

She flopped back down onto the bed, and Taylor left the room without another word, fists clenched at her still-damp sides.

This clearly wasn’t working out. Beacon was a mistake. Why in the world had she thought she could escape teenage drama by going to a school for teenagers, for Christ’s sake? Dumbest idea she’d ever had, and that was saying something.

She sighed. Besides… 

Thirty minutes and one change of clothes later, Taylor was on her way to Beacon’s airship port. 

She had an important meeting to attend, one she’d been putting off for a long, long time.

* * *

“Lee.”

The man appeared at his side, mask red like the eyes of the Grimm. Dust crystals, bombs, and knives adorned his chest, attached to a bandolier over a black bodysuit. The sheathed katana at his side completed the outfit. It gave his subordinate a very distinctive look, one he’d come up with himself, long before he’d come to Vale.

He could not see the other man’s face, but knew he was looking to him for instructions.

“Bring me the new recruit. The dropout.”

The man nodded once, then spirited himself away to do just that. He’d be back within the minute.

He took the opportunity to extinguish his old cigar and light a new one, taking a deep breath, letting the unique Mistralian flavor penetrate his senses. A very expensive brand, but very much worth the cost.

Moments later, his subordinate returned, a pink-haired girl at his side. She was disgruntled, yellow eyes glaring at him in irritation for wasting her time. He cared not, addressing Lee first.

“Tell the men we move tonight. I will be there with them.”

Another nod, before the assassin vanished to do as commanded. He turned to the new arrival.

“Alice. Are the devices ready?”

She snorted derisively - a show of disrespect. Almost intolerable, but he would need to beat that out of her later. Business before pleasure.

“Of course they’re ready. I was working on that next project you asked me to do, not doing last-minute touch ups. What do you take me for, an idiot?”

 _Yes_ , he thought. _For only an idiot would_ dare _take that tone with_ me. _Also, I do not ask. I command. Finally, your accent is obnoxious._

He chose not to voice his thoughts. This was neither the time nor the place.

“Good. Show me.”

She pulled a series of silver spheres out of her backpack, each approximately the size of an apple. Each had a differently-colored band across its diameter - red, cyan, yellow, black, light blue.

“These things are awesome, made with the highest quality Dust by the best engineer in the entirety of Remnant - that’s me, by the way. Just run your Aura through one of these gems, give it two seconds, and boom. Street and anyone on it’s going to be caught in the blast radius. Exact effect depends on the bomb, of course, but I’m sure that you can figure it out.”

He nodded, motioning for her to continue. She brought out what appeared to be a half dozen ordinary Scrolls, set them on the table in front of him.

“Now, these things are a work of genius. Normally, you can’t squeeze much explosive power into things this thin, but it turns out, if you’re as smart as I am, there ain’t much you can’t do. They even still work as Scrolls, mostly. If you want to detonate ‘em, use this-” she pulled out a different, red-colored Scroll “- to do it. If it doesn’t kill whoever’s holding it, double your money back.”

He noticed that she didn’t mention Colin Cobalt once during her spiel, despite his presumably large role in the development of these devices, before she’d stolen them. Whether it was for his benefit or her ego, he couldn’t tell, and didn’t particularly care.

“Finally, a weapon upgrade for yours truly. Don’t have it with me, obviously, but you’ll probably notice the differences right away - faster, stronger, more fuel efficient. It’s in the lab, when you need it.”

He pondered for a long moment, watching her for her reactions. Eventually, he nodded.

“Satisfactory. Tell Lee to take these Scrolls and give one to each of my lieutenants, and take these spheres to use for himself. I will prepare for tonight.”

He stood, made towards the door as if he was going to leave.

“One more thing.”

In an instant, his hand found her neck, easily wrapping around it in its entirety. His Semblance flared, and flames wrapped around him, bolstering his strength. The girl, caught off-guard, could only claw at him with her arms, ineffectually.

He stood like that for a duration, watching the girl struggle. He contemplated how he could best teach this lesson, teach her that he was _not_ to be trifled with. A little bit of everything, he eventually decided: words, deeds, and threats. That would be the best way to inspire fear in her.

“I will not tolerate disrespect. I have been patient with you because you are useful. If you continue down this road, I will not be. Do you understand?”

She continued struggling. He tightened his grip, felt the flames sear her skin, and she finally managed a nod.

He released her, watched her fall to the floor and cough for a moment, hair falling down past her eyes, obscuring her face. Then, he left the room to prepare.

Two weeks ago, Steelheart and his gang had _humiliated_ him, forcing him to retreat, costing him swathes of territory and, more importantly, respect.

This time… he would be ready. He would not lose a second time. 

This Dragon would show his Claws.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is officially recontinued! Huzzah! Don't expect consistent updates, though, because you ain't getting any.
> 
> Also, *cough cough* Hardlight *cough cough*
> 
> Other things that happened:  
> \- Brian literally uppercuts Sophia through the ceiling.  
> \- Alec trounces everyone he goes up against.  
> \- Aisha runs circles around Missy.  
> \- Taylor loses every match.
> 
> By the way, if you want to check out some of the art I made for this fic, head on over to the Spacebattles cross-post: https://forums.spacebattles.com/threads/remainders-worm-rwby-fusion.842531/threadmarks?threadmark_category=10


	9. Hear Me Roar

Taylor hadn’t grown up in the nicest part of Vale.

True, she’d been luckier than many. She had a dad who cared about her, a house in a location that typically wasn’t embroiled in violence, and enough money for food, water, even school. That was better than what a lot of others had.

Much like seemingly everything else in her life, though, it was far from perfect. Many people in her area had to pay lip service to the White Knights, and there weren’t many Faunus around as a result. Cops didn’t come around frequently, so if you needed help due to… any number of reasons, there was a good chance you wouldn’t be getting any. The school had been a hellhole, to put it mildly, and that was  _ before _ … well, it wasn’t important now. Shouldn’t be

She sighed, kept trudging along.

It had rained last night, filling the air with the scent of mud and rust. Grey puddles on grey streets reflected grey buildings, many in blatant disrepair. A car rushed by, throwing water across the sidewalk, splattering the grey security door of an abandoned, graffiti-covered storefront.

_ Sometimes _ , Taylor mused bitterly, _ I wonder: has the Council written the Bay Area off as a lost cause, or do they just not  _ care _? _

She made a right turn past a convenience store. The sidewalk had been eroded away, nearly disintegrated, and so she moved to the street.

As she turned another corner, she noticed a familiar face sitting in a chair, though it took her a second to place a name to it. A black bowl cut on top of a pale, pimply face, dark red eyes engrossed in a comic book.

Greg Vader. One of her classmates back in high school, he was living proof against the conspiracy theory that the Valean government ejected ‘negative’ people from the city to decrease Grimm attacks, though he himself believed it. In fact, he seemed to believe in everything under the sun, as long as it was strange, worrying, implied something horrible, or all of the above

She was hoping he wouldn’t notice her. It would have been nice if she could reach her destination unmolested by theories that the moon’s orbit was destabilizing and the fragments would smash into Remnant (which was ridiculous, of course—the forces governing the moon’s rotation and orbit made perfect sense to those who put even ten minutes of research into the topic).

Sadly, she couldn’t be that lucky.

“Oh! Hey, Taylor! How’re you doing today? Haven’t seen you around in a while!”

Taylor exhaled slowly.  _ Here we go. _

“I’m fine. Thank you, Greg. I kind of have someplace to be, so, if you don’t mind…”

Greg shook his head cheerfully, folding up his comic book and standing up. “Oh, sure, sure go ahead! Hope you don’t mind if I come with you, though.”

She did mind. She turned away from him and walked briskly down the street. Unfortunately, like an overenthusiastic puppy, Greg decided to follow, jogging after her to catch up and matching her pace at her side, slightly winded.

“So,  _ huff _ , where have you been? School started, like, a week ago, and I didn’t see you at all, and I was  _ looking _ for you - where have you been?”

Taylor didn’t deign to reply, instead hastening her pace. It didn’t deter the other boy.   


“Like, I had a theory that you were spirited away by the government, because you’re so… gloomy, you know? Were you? You were, right?”

Her eyebrow twitched, and her hand subconsciously moved towards Burn’s sheathe on her waist. Greg noticed.

“Hey, wait a second, is that a knife on your belt? Cool, can I see it? It looks sharp. And is that Fire Dust? Where’d you get it? Oh, and what’s in your backpack?”

_ Does he ever shut up? _ She wondered.  _ No, wait, no he wouldn’t shut up if I held a gun to his head. I’ve got to do something about this, before he drives me insane. Let’s see… excuses, excuses, excuses... _

“Oh, hold on a minute… tell me if I’m right: did you fake your way into Beacon, like I tried to? What’s your secret?”

“What? No!” Taylor half-blurted, taken aback, her carefully planned train of thought derailed by the sheer incredulity of the question. What kind of person just  _ asks _ that? Also, he’d tried to fake his way into Beacon? She wasn’t sure whether she should be relieved or annoyed that he’d been caught, because if he  _ hadn’t _ , he probably would have died during initiation, and thus wouldn’t be bothering her right now—she didn’t even think he had his Aura unlocked, let alone any combat ability.

Greg’s eyes lit up at having finally elicited a reply from her, and he somehow grew even more excited, as if he’d gotten exactly what he’d wanted for Nondescript Holiday.

“In that case, what are you doing? Did you join a gang? Are you a Faunus?”

Taylor’s brain was having difficulty trying to keep up with Greg’s… disjointed train of thought. She figured that if she tried to answer all these questions individually, she’d only get more questions, each more inane than the last. Eventually, she decided to try cutting the knot.

“Yes, I’m a Huntress, Greg. And I’m on official Huntress business, so please  _ leave me alone. _ ” She hoped the extra emphasis, coupled with the illusion of authority, would encourage him to do as she asked. Clearly, she hadn’t known him very well because he just. Kept. Talking.

“Oh, sorry! Uh, I’ll stand back here, then, I guess,” he said, lengthening the distance between them by a couple of meters, but still continuing to hang around. Taylor wanted to compare him to a housefly, one of those stupid insects that kept buzzing around your head, irritating in both its noisiness and her inability to swat it successfully.

He was quiet for a few blessed seconds, before he resumed asking questions, in a slightly lower, quieter, more conspiratorial tone: “So, what’re you doing? Going to fight Grimm? Or meet up with gangsters? Or meet up and then fight Grimm gangsters?”

She took a deep breath. Strangling Greg would be a terrible idea. And yet, it was so,  _ so _ , tempting.

“Wait, that knife can’t be your only weapon, right? Surely you’ve got to have something else? Maybe a rocket launcher? A sword? Everybody uses swords! Oh, wait, is it also a gun?!”

Taylor snapped, turning about to face him and hissing, “ _Greg._ _Please_ go away. I am _not_ in the mood to deal with any of your _bullshit_ right now. I’ve got a thing to do, and I could really do without your… _everything_ , right now.”

The venom in her voice apparently reached through his impressively thick skull, as he finally blanched, shutting up and staying still. She forged on ahead without him. She almost felt bad for yelling at him, until she considered the thought of listening to his drivel for another ten minutes and decided that, yes, this really was for the better.

In fact, as she passed by an old abandoned construction site, she decided to take a bit of a detour, just to make sure Greg wouldn’t catch up to her. Drawing Burn from its sheath, she sliced through a bit of chain link fence, opening up a hole for her to fit through. She patched it up the best she could before continuing through the area.

The skeleton of a large building dominated the site, cargo trucks and construction equipment littered around it like tremendous toys. Taylor wondered when the kid playing with them would come back, to finish the job or to destroy his work, before realizing she was taking the metaphor far too literally.

There were sites like these all over the Bay Area, unfinished attempts to revitalize the region’s failing economy. Some were more complete than others; this one leaned more towards the unfinished, as the framework was barely in place.

Her dad had, on a couple of occasions, gone on long-winded rants about the things. He’d…

Taylor let out a deep sigh. She needed to stop recollecting about what he’d said before, think more about what he was going to say in the near future. What  _ she _ was going to say.

Her actions had damaged their relationship. Fact. Not telling him about the bullying, the training, the whole Beacon thing

Her thoughts kept trailing off, overwhelmed by the enormity of the issue. There wasn’t anything she could say. No pithy one-liner she could use to suddenly make everything right. No gift she could give to instantly repair the bridge she’d burned.

She hadn’t actually made a promise nor signed a contract to tell her dad everything, but she felt like it was always implied somehow, some unspoken stipulation for her relative freedom. And yet, she hadn’t. She’d lied, again and again and again.

Why?

Her feet stopped, the autopilot she hadn’t known she’d had turning off. She was home. The car was in the driveway.  _ He _ was home.

Would he stop her from going back to Beacon? For that matter, did she  _ want _ to go back?

The anticipation, the dread, was killing her. She needed to do this, and do it now, else she never would. She’d keep putting it off under the guise of needing time to prepare, excuse it by saying she had things to do. This was the closest she would ever come to coming clean, she knew, somehow. A gut feeling.

Why was it so goddamn hard?

He even already knew! It wasn’t like she was telling him some great revelation—she’d already fucking told him, left the note and everything. Besides, being a Huntress was a  _ good _ thing! It wasn’t like she was going to tell him she was in a gang, or doing drugs, or being a supervillain or anything like that

Her hand hovered over the doorbell, unable to press it.

_ Not close enough, apparently _ , she thought bitterly. Her hand fell back to her side and she sat down next to the door, defeated.

She’d talked a big talk—in her own head, at least—but she just couldn’t live up to it. Couldn’t face her own dad. Why was she so pathetic

Thankfully, at that moment, a high-pitched scream rang out in the distance, distracting herself from her own misery. It was something she could do, someone she could help. Something productive, to take her mind off things.

She tried to judge where it came from and ran towards what she hoped was the source, passing by buildings and cars, going back through that construction site she’d originally passed through.

That scream again, off to her left. She turned, ran in that direction, then stopped short as she saw what was happening, drawing and extending Sting.   


A trio of men stood around a prone teenager. Two of them were laughing, armed with a crowbar and pistol. The third had a sword embedded in Greg’s stomach. Their bare forearms were marked with dragon tattoos. Dragon’s Claw gangsters.

Guilt and indecision crushed her like a vise, making her hands tremble. Just because she didn't like the boy didn’t mean he deserved  _ death _ . Was she wrong in sending the teen away? She could’ve averted this, if she’d been just a bit more patient. She could’ve protected him.

One of the men noticed her, pointing her out to the others and sneering, saying, “Look, it’s a girl.”

The others laughed again, casually bringing their weapons to bear. Sword dude yanked his sword out of Greg’s corpse, twirling it about showily.

The guy with the crowbar called out in a heavily accented voice, “Hey girlie! Come closer! We’d like to show you something!”

Taylor felt her resolve firm, and her grip firm with it. Sure, she may not have been able to protect Greg. 

But she sure as hell would avenge him.

She strode forward, Sting at the ready. Sword dude swaggered up to meet her, smirk still on his face. The other two simply stood where they were, watching, smiling cruelly.

_ They’re not taking me seriously _ , she realized.  _ They think I’m just a civilian. _

For once, she was glad for her non-elaborate outfit. It would make this just a bit easier, if they kept underestimating her.

The moment the sword dude was within reach of her baton, she jabbed it under his guard and into his stomach, fired point-blank, and shattered his Aura instantly, sending him flying backwards. He tumbled ungracefully against the ground before eventually coming to a stop, out cold.

The other two stared at her with wide eyes, almost in disbelief, before hastily backing away. Pistol guy raised his weapon and fired the entire magazine at her, which she easily dodged. She fired several shots at him in return, each of which impacted his Aura and caused him to wince. 

Crowbar looked around hastily before pulling out a Scroll, likely calling for reinforcements.

_ Can’t have that, now. _

Taylor pushed her Aura into her legs and bolted towards the pistol guy, slamming Sting into his head with extreme force. He spun about like a drunken ballerina before falling down. Taylor turned her attention to the last of the gangsters, frantically trying to make a call.

He only got two words out (‘Huntress on—!”) before she blasted the Scroll out of his hands with Sting. She charged in towards him, swinging her baton, and he hastily managed to parry the blow, though he failed to avoid any of the following ones. Before long, he too was laid out on the ground, unconscious.

Taylor sighed in relief. That had been almost trivial—her skill, speed, and strength greatly outstripped each of the Dragon’s Claw members by a wide margin. She supposed that’s what training could do for you.

She checked up on Greg, and was quite surprised to find that he was still breathing, even if he was leaking vital fluids all over the ground. She winced at the grossness of it all and how painful it must have been. Then she steeled her nerves and went looking for that Scroll she’d shot. She didn’t have one of her own, and she needed to call an ambulance for Greg.

Taylor found it sparking on the ground, obviously broken. She cursed before going to search the other gangsters, eventually finding one on sword dude. She dialed VPD, telling them both about the gang members and the teenager currently bleeding out. They said they’d be there within fifteen minutes, and hung up, and she sat down, reloaded Sting, and settled in for the duration.

At least, until something quite large slammed into the ground behind her, causing tremors that shook the nearby buildings, caused the fences and chains to rattle noisily. Taylor sprang to her feet, swiveled to look behind her, and instantly knew she was absolutely fucked.

A man, positioned on all fours on shattered concrete. His back and chest were unclothed, covered in elaborate tattoos of dragons and Grimm. His face was hidden by an equally elaborate silver mask, in the shape of what appeared to be a Sea Feilong. Glowing orange eyes were visible through the eyeholes, glaring at her balefully, seemingly freezing her in place.

His most striking features were the massive mechanical wings adorning his shoulders, easily twice as long as he was tall. A steel framework filled in by thin membrane, they were easily comparable to those of bats, or butterflies… 

Or dragons.

Kenta Huolong stood, brushing concrete dust off of his heavily muscled shoulders in an almost careless motion. His wings clanked and folded, metal sliding over metal, membranes retracting into the framework, until his actual weapons were revealed: a set of massive curved claws, three on each hand, each sharp and thin enough to cut paper out of the air. The Dragon’s Claws.

The Mistralian gang lord ‘hmmmed’, for a couple of seconds, before finally speaking. His voice was deep and intimidating.

“I think… I will make an example of you.”

With that, flames crackled to life around him, surrounding him in a cushion of unnatural fire. She could almost feel the heat from where she stood.

_ I can’t fight him _ , Taylor realized. _ I don’t stand a chance. _

She ran.

* * *

“What do you  _ mean _ you don’t know where she is?”

Rachel almost didn’t remember the blonde’s name, Lisa. She was loud, nearing hysterical. She hadn’t seen much of the girl over the last week; she’d been injured the last couple of days.

“I told you, all I know is that I saw her this morning, she went to Cobalt’s class, and then I don’t know.”

Brian, the Faunus. She hadn’t gotten the best first impression of him, but she was alright with him, now. He was respectful, polite, left her alone. And a Faunus. A plus in her book.

“Eh, who cares where she went. She’ll be back. Unfortunately.”

Aisha. His sister. Rachel didn’t like her. She was rude, got up in her face too often, played loud music. Still, Rachel left her alone. Brian liked her, and he would get upset if she did anything.

“Hey, can you guys quiet down in there? I can’t hear the TV.”

Alec. Her partner. A real fucker. She wasn’t sure what he wanted, aside from pissing people off, and that made her nervous. He was stronger than her, though, so there wasn’t much she could do. 

Everyone ignored him. Sabah would have told him to shut up, but she wasn’t here. She was probably with Lily.

“We need to find her. Do you have any idea where she could be?”

“No. Why are you so concerned?”

“Yeah, I’m curious too. What’d she ever do for you?”

Alec increased the volume on his TV. Rachel peeked over, didn’t find what he was watching interesting, and returned to petting Rollo.

“It’s not what she did for me, it’s what she’s going to do to herself. What’s your problem with her, Aisha?”

“Nothing. I’ve got nothing against her.”

“You’re lying.”

Rachel wanted to know how she knew that. She’d known a lot of good liars, and Aisha was one of them. She wouldn’t have known she was lying there. How did Lisa know so easily? More social shit?

“Wha-”

“No, be quiet. Let’s see. This is Taylor’s school uniform… smells like juice.”

“Hey, that’s my area! Leave my desk alone!”   


“And this… this is yours. It’s the same kind. And this homework… this isn’t your handwriting. Are these Taylor’s clothes? What have you been up to?”

“None of your business.”

Aisha was being defensive. Even Rachel could tell she was hiding something now. She scooched slightly closer towards the door frame, closer to Team BALT’s room. Rollo barked twice. She scrubbed his head.

“Aisha. I agree with Lisa. Tell me what you have been doing.”

“Nothing! It’s nothing.”

Aisha’s frustrated denials were more damning than an actual confession would have been. 

“Got it, but fuck, your sister’s a real piece of work.”

“Don’t need to tell me twice. Also, what exactly have you ‘got’?”

Lisa took a deep breath before starting with her spiel. Rachel listened with bated breath.

“Thanks to some twisted belief that Taylor hates Faunus - I have no idea how that came about - your sister has been trying to make Taylor’s life a living hell: stealing her stuff, playing pranks, and using her Semblance to get away with it. Taylor must’ve finally had enough and left, and that’s what’s worrying me.”

Rachel wondered why the girl was here. She didn’t seem particularly heroic nor Huntress-like. Then again, neither did half their teams, herself included. Ozpin had strange taste in prospective students, she supposed.    


“Aisha...”

Brain sounded something between disappointed and angry.

“Even worse: part of the reason she came to Beacon was to get away from that kind of crap. I’m worried she’s considering doing something drastic, which is why I  _ need  _ to know where she is right now. Do you have any idea?”

A moment of silence. Lisa poked her head into Team SLAR’s room, asking, “Sorry to bother you, but—oh, you’ve been eavesdropping. Well, do you know where Taylor is?”

“No,” Rachel said, “but I’m willing to help look. Let me get my weapon.” She carefully set Rollo aside, gave him a few final pats on the head, before standing.

“Eh. Might’ve seen a grey blob heading towards the airship port, but could be wrong on that.” Alec shrugged. “Also, I’m with Rachel, I guess. I can help.”

Rachel wasn’t sure why he was bothering.  _ She _ was doing it because it was part of the job for Huntsmen, helping people, and she was going to do her damned job, but she knew he didn’t give a fuck. She wasn’t sad about it, though—he was strong, stronger than her.

Lisa’s gaze lingered on the two of them for a moment, before nodding, smiling gratefully, before she dashed away, presumably to get her weapon.

“Aisha, you stay in the room. We’re going to have a long discussion after this.”

Alec yawned, standing and stretching.

“Guess we’re going into the city, then. Joy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Note:
> 
> I was originally going to have Taylor actually talk to her dad, before I figured she actually probably wouldn’t? So instead I kicked off her suicidal attempt to be a hero a little early. Joy.
> 
> Also, like I said, I was originally going to split this chapter into two parts, covering the entire Lung fight, before I realized I didn’t have to, and could just dump the Rachel interlude a little early and move on.
> 
> I don’t like Greg. This will be his only appearance in the story. If you’re hoping for more Greg, go somewhere else. Distraktion’s writing a pretty good Greg story. Go check that out instead. 


	10. Here Goes Nothing

_FuckfuckfuckfuckfuckFUCK!_

Eloquent, she knew. Still, she felt it was a fairly reasonable thought, for someone in her situation.

A searing gout of flame soared less than a centimeter above her head, almost certainly singing her hair. If she’d been holding herself just a bit higher, her brains would be fricasseed by now. Extra-crispy. 

Kenta’s deep, guttural roar shook her brain off the tangent and brought her back to the task at hand: not being rended into giblets, burned to ashes, or otherwise murdered by the dragon-themed crime lord.

It was proving to be… difficult. 

Back at Beacon, Taylor had occasionally received praise, usually from Professor Goodwitch but also from Port on one occasion, about her ‘good tactical mind’. According to the deputy headmistress, she tended to be cool under pressure, able to come up with fairly workable plans in mere moments without succumbing to panic or anxiety. Sure, she’d still lost all her spars, but she’d been reassured that at least it wasn’t because of her poor planning. 

Taylor had a theory that it had something to do with her training methods before Beacon, which mostly involved practicing on Grimm. When your ‘low-stakes’ combat situations involved the black murderous hellbeasts controlled only by her own willpower and concentration, suddenly, fighting against random teenagers didn’t seem so scary anymore.

Massive flaming dragon men, on the other hand…

She glanced back over her shoulder, nearly yelping at how quickly the distance between them had closed. Huolong was less than ten feet away from her now, and, practically speaking, that distance was even less when one took into account his meter-length claws.

Speaking of which, one set of claws, the set on his right arm, had mechashifted backwards and consolidated into something very similar to a nozzle, which intermittently sprayed fire at her in tight, blistering streams. A flamethrower.

He lunged, left arm outstretched and already in motion, red claws slicing through the air. Taylor hastily swerved to the right and kept running, not bothering to exploit the slight opening Huolong had left open. 

She knew the gang lord was faster than her, had more Aura than her, was stronger than her - would _keep_ getting stronger than her, thanks to his Semblance. The newscasters called it Escalation - a fitting name. The harder he fought, the better at fighting Kenta Huolong became: his Aura strengthened, his reflexes sped up, his already fearsome strength was bolstered to new heights. It also set him on fire, which was a pleasant side effect.

The point was, Taylor stood no chance. She wasn’t panicking, not yet at least, but she also did not have even the slightest inkling of a plan to take the dragon down. All she could think to do was put more distance between herself and him, stall for time.

Taylor ran by that convenience store again, catching a brief glimpse of the shopkeep staring back at her - no, at _Kenta_ \- eyes wide with shock.

Taylor made an addendum to her lack of plan: keep the murderous crime lord away from random civilians. What did saving (ugh) Greg mean if she got a bunch of other people killed instead? 

With that in mind, at the next intersection, after just barely dodging several gouts of flame and massive claw swings that gouged huge chunks out of the pavement, she consciously made a left, heading further towards the city walls, away from the more populated center.

It would take longer for help to reach her, but it wasn’t like there was any coming. Right?

***

At this point, she was fairly certain that Kenta was just toying with her.

She’d been running for nearly ten minutes now, by her count (though she could easily be wrong - time had a way of distorting when you were in a flight for your life, stupid timestream) and in all that time, Huolong had only managed to score _one_ solid hit on her - a sharp stab in the back. Granted, that one stab had taken off about a sixth of her Aura, but come on - it had been _ten minutes_ (probably) of non-stop, directly-behind-her-pressure. The only reason for her continued survival had to be because he wasn’t taking this seriously - “make an example of her”, he had said?

Not that she was complaining. If he had been putting all his effort into this, she’d be dead a dozen times over.

Still, she could not keep this up forever. Her Aura was starting to strain, lowering with every passing second. Eventually, she’d simply be overtaken by exhaustion, left to the dragon’s mercy. And he had none.

She’d be damned if she let that happen. No, if she was going to die, it was going to be on her own terms, not _his_ . She would go down fighting, no matter what happened. She _would not_ go gentle into that good night.

Taylor paused mentally, almost surprised by her own intensity. Then, she steeled herself, jumped with all her might, and fired Sting at the ground, launching herself into the sky and just onto the roof of a nearby building. She gazed out at her surroundings.

She was rapidly approaching the southern city wall, which was currently unmanned, save for by automatic turrets. There weren’t many people that lived out here, mainly because it was so close to the walls - if the Grimm did break through, they’d be first on the chopping block. The scenario was unlikely, but the fear was still there.

...Now that was an idea. Perhaps, if she could get close enough to the wall, she could use her Semblance, control and somehow sneak a Grimm past it? A Nevermore or a Creep, perhaps? It wouldn’t be enough, but it could help a little bit.

There was also another one of those abandoned construction sites, not far from the wall. The building being constructed there was significantly more complete than the other one. The framework had largely been filled in with bricks and there were large, dark windows on the bottom floors. Taylor guessed it was supposed to be an office building. Much like the other one, it was surrounded by cargo trucks, construction equipment - even a crane and a bulldozer, both with the SDC logo on them.

She didn’t see any people in the area, and the site had been abandoned, left for the rust and grafitiers. Good place for a last stand.

The _crunch_ that came from behind her indicated that Kenta had caught up to her on the roof, and that she needed to start running again. She beelined for the construction site, running across the roof and hopping to the next one.

About five seconds later, she nearly stopped dead in her tracks as her Semblance caught something, just outside the kingdom’s walls. A Grimm she’d never seen before - it seemed to be some kind of one-eyed ovular mask, embedded within a massive boulder, with additional boulders making up massive arms and legs. And it was old. Significantly older than the Beringels in the Emerald Forest, any of the Ursa Majors she’d fought in Forever Fall - it had to be more than a century old, by her best estimate. Maybe even two.

Darkly intelligent, too. It wasn’t attacking the walls of the city like Taylor expected. Instead it was… probing them. Looking for weak points, deducing patrol schedules… it was scary. This Grimm could not be allowed to continue existing.

In the meantime, though, it would serve her purposes. It wasn’t like she had other options.

Taylor jumped over a narrow alleyway, then reached out with her Semblance, grasping ahold of the ancient Grimm’s mind. Its response was surprising: it _fought_ her, making it feel like she was trying to grab ahold of a writhing toddler. She pushed harder, fully intent on breaking the other Grimm’s ‘willpower’ with her own, and eventually it acquiesced, granting her full control.

After ducking under another claw swing from Kenta and falling to street level, Taylor frantically tried to figure out how the hell this Grimm worked. It was clearly at least somewhat incorporeal, given it was somehow inside that rock… so… 

Taylor tried having it eject itself out of its current stone body, which crumbled into a pile of rubble, revealing its ‘true’ form. It resembled a wraith or a ghost, with two long clawed arms dangling down to its ‘waist’. It had no legs and simply hovered in the air, awaiting her instructions.

 _Aha_ , she remembered. _A Geist_. She recognized its true form, having seen it in a textbook for Grimm Studies.

Huolong fired another gout of flame towards her as he landed behind her, and she was just a moment too slow in rolling to the right, resulting in her arm getting singed. She winced in pain, reminded that she needed to multitask here; couldn’t get caught up in just one issue. Then she kept running.

She tried willing the Geist to go _through_ the wall, trying to take advantage of its general incorporeality. It didn’t seem to like it, but, after another dominance tug of war, eventually complied, pushing through the metal and stone, leaving no trace of its passing.

Taylor turned another corner, dodging a claw strike, and found that the construction site was finally within sight and not too far away. With a burst of energy and speed, she rushed towards it, slamming through the chain link fence like it wasn’t even there. 

She took the very short reprieve she obtained from Huolong's attacks to duck inside the building, find the stairs, and rush up them. Her Aura strained, her legs burned with exertion, but she managed. Every building layer was mostly empty, providing little to no cover, unfortunately, meaning she had to keep going up to buy time. Hopefully it would be enough for the Grimm to arrive and... assist, somehow.

Taylor heard Kenta stomping about downstairs, growling in what seemed like irritation. He wasn't tromping up the stairs yet to follow her yet, which was a good thing, let her buy more time. She ascended another flight, returning her attention to the Geist.

She directed it to float towards the construction site, which it did, trailing misty black Grimm smoke behind it. Some guy noticed it and started screaming in panic. Taylor ignored him.

Kenta was starting to make his way up the stairs, and Taylor ran up another flight as well. She quickly fired her baton-rifle at one of the windows, creating a loud shattering sound. With any luck, the crime lord on her tail would be distracted by the noise, though she wasn't hedging her bets on it.

The Geist could now see the construction site, and the two bundles of negative energy within it. Taylor had it drift down to the ground outside and... didn't really know what to do with it at that point. It had been inhabiting a body made of stone outside, but could it even do that with equipment and rubble? She had precious little time to figure this out.

Mentally shrugging, she forced it into the bulldozer, which it accepted, apparently. It began drawing limbs from the nearby materials - construction equipment and materials, mainly.

She went up another flight of stairs, and her brain froze. She'd made it to the final floor, half-constructed, framework all around her. There was nowhere else to go, aside from down, and at this point, she wasn't entirely sure if she had enough Aura to survive the fall.

 _Deep breaths, Taylor_ . Her gaze flickered between the stairwell she'd just come out of and the framework surrounding her. _Steady_.

She set Sting into a ready stance, fidgeted with Burn. The posession Grimm was still drawing itself together, but Huolong would likely be here any second. Too late. She was on her own, with less than half her Aura, exhausted from running and dodging, against one of the scariest motherfuckers in Vale.

 _Wish I'd talked to Dad, now_.

After a moment of thought, she released the Geist. It wouldn't be any help, and she needed to conserve her Aura for this fight.

_Maybe, if I get lucky, I could get some hits in? Inconvenience him slightly?_

Silver peeked its way through the stairwell. The Feilong mask.

Taylor opened fire.

Kenta didn't even seem to notice, simply finishing his walk implacably. His Semblance still burned across his body, illuminating the room, casting harsh shadows upon the unfinished floor. His arms were folded, claws sticking out incongruently. He watched Taylor empty Sting's entire clip into him, to no avail, before snorting.

"You... are an _irritating_ girl _."_

The crime lord strode closer, forcing her to stop reloading and start getting ready for the fight.

_...Here goes nothing._

He swung his claws. Taylor ducked under them, slid close to him without taking advantage of his slightly lowered guard, and immediately rolled away to avoid the retaliatory backswing.

Her focus was almost entirely on dodging. Much like against Missy, she couldn't afford to take any further hits, for they would be dehabilitating. All she could do was survive, same as when she was running. It was just a slightly different kind of survival, now. A more direct kind.

Two downward slashes rended the concrete beneath them, sending chunks of rubble into Taylor, sticking it in her hair. She had no time to rest afterward, as he followed up with a flurry of attacks, most of which Taylor dodged. She had to parry and block the rest, and every blow made her shoulders burn, and not because of the temperature (which, for the record, was steadily rising, the crime lord's flames growing more and more intense - not a good sign)

She wasn't sure if she preferred it.

She managed both block a massive forward stroke and use its momentum to put some space between her and her opponent, and she took the very brief opportunity to catch her breath, prepare for the next barrage.

That was a mistake.

With a sound of ratcheting metal, both sets of Kenta's claws retracted, becoming the flamethrower nozzles. Taylor was expecting another barrage of claw strikes, and had Sting raised to defend against those.

She was not ready for the twin jets of flame that emitted instead, which flowed around her weapon and struck her square in the face. Her Aura levels fell like an elevator with its strings cut and she screamed, the only thing on her mind being the sheer agony the flames were causing.

By the time they finally shut off, she barely even noticed. The pain was still there. _Why was it still there?_ She staggered back, dropping her weapons. She couldn't fight. All that mattered was the _pain_. 

She barely even noticed the dragon walking up to her, reaching down towards her prone body, and gripping it by the neck. At least, not until she realized that his hands, covered in flames, were _also_ burning her, and _oh god it hurt it hurt it hurt make it stop_

She flailed wildly, which didn't bother him at all. He said something. She couldn't make it out, and screamed incoherently. He laughed and his grip around her neck grew tighter, tighter. She felt dizzy, unable to scream.

Then something massive, yellow, and metal smashed through the floor, stabbed the dragon from behind, and threw him off the building. Taylor fell to the cracked ground, still dazed.

It took her several more moments for the pain to fade, for her rational brain to reassert itself, like it was climbing out of the pits of Hell. She was certain she'd never forget it, and certain that she never wanted to do that ever again.

Finally, when she felt... she wouldn't say good, but _adequate..._ when she felt adequate enough to do things again, she took inventory. Her Aura, surprisingly, was still up, though it was critically low. If this were a normal spar, she definitely would be in the red and the match would be called off. Sting and Burn were just off to her side, and she grabbed them, felt their weight in her hands.

It was slightly reassuring, their familiarity. Helped ground her.

Eventually, after what felt like a week but was probably only a couple of seconds, she turned her attention to the dragon and the Grimm. Her Semblance was still registering it, so it hadn't died. Probably a good thing.

She stood, shakily, and made her way to the edge of the building, where she was able to gaze down on the battle below. 

Both combatants were easily visible, even from this height: Kenta due to the fact that his Semblance was making him glow brighter than a star and the Geist thanks both to its sheer bulk and... unusual composition. Its main body had soaked into the bulldozer, though that wasn't all it had done. Its arms, previously just groups of rocks, had now become a material-laden cargo truck and the SDC crane, both of which it was swinging with tremendous force. Its legs, however, seemed to be the weakest part. They consisted mainly of bricks, hunks of construction materials that would have been used for the building. Almost literal feet of clay.

Kenta, unfortunately, was clearly winning. The Geist, despite its massive bulk, strength, and surprisingly high speed, was still slower than the ramped-up crime lord. His claws were absolutely shredding its arms, despite them being made of solid steel, and he was dodging every massive swing the Grimm made towards him, in some eerie inverse of what Taylor had been dealing with.

He clearly _had_ taken a major blow or two, though, as evinced by the large man-sized impression on the ground, surrounded by an even larger truck-shaped crater. That couldn't have felt good.

Everything, quite suddenly, tilted, and her perspective was sent askew. She glanced to the side, and realized that it wasn't just her perspective; it was the entire floor. The Grimm must have destabilized some supports or broken the framework or something, and now the floor was sliding, crumbling, falling towards the ground below, taking her with it.

Taylor tried running back up, not entirely sure what she was doing - maybe trying to land on the next floor? - but she clearly wasn't as recovered as she'd thought, because her legs just wouldn't move fast enough for those kinds of acrobatics. She ended up simply sliding along with the floor and falling six stories along with it.

The impact on landing finally wrecked the rest of her Aura, which flickered away in grey motes. She winced, but honestly, it was nothing compared to the agony she'd experienced earlier. She could deal.

She sat up, surprised she'd maintained her hold on her weapons. Then, right as she glanced over to the battle between the Grimm and Kenta, the latter slipped a claw right under the white mask of the former and pulled, ripping it right out of its mechanical body (which fell back and broke into its component parts), then plunged his other claws right into its chest, impaling it.

The Geist's yellow eye dimmed. Huolong ripped his weapons out with a quiet _shink_ , and it fell to the ground, like a puppet with its strings cut.

The dragon roared in triumph, glowing brightly enough to make her eyes hurt.

Then he turned his eyes on his previous target. Taylor smelled smoke.

She managed to find the strength to stand, pointing Sting at him (an empty bluff, it wasn't loaded). She couldn't hide her flinch when his claws retracted yet again, turning back into the flamethrower nozzles.

 _How quickly will I burn_? she wondered.

She had never seen his face, but she could still vividly envision Huolong's vicious smile. She very much wanted to wipe it off his face, but couldn't imagine any way for her to do so. Despite the beatings he had taken, if anything, he looked _stronger_ than he had when she'd first seen him. Meanwhile, she was... essentially dead. It would take a miracle for her to sur-

_BANG._

Kenta's head rocked to the side, a small explosion suddenly blooming to life on the opposite side. He turned ninety degrees, snarling, only to receive another explosion to the chest in return, rocking him backwards a step.

It took Taylor an embarrassingly long amount of time to realize that someone was shooting him with high-powered Dust ordinance. Did she know anybody like that? Was this the VPD?

She caught a flash of movement out of the corner of her eye, and she turned her attention towards it. Then she blinked furiously, unable to believe what she was seeing.

_Am I hallucinating? Surely, it can't be. How would they know? Why would they care?_

And then she had to face reality, as outlandish as it may have seemed: Brian and Rachel, charging in atop a wolf created by the latter's Semblance. The former's gloved fist glowed brown, a thick layer of rock consolidating all around it until it was twice its former size. 

Then, arm drawn back, he _leaped_ towards the crime lord. He didn't see him coming, distracted by sniper fire.

Brian's fist collided with the back of Kenta's head with a thundering **_BOOM_ **, one so loud Taylor imagined it could've been heard all the way in Atlas. The rocky covering around his fist nearly disintegrated on impact, and the crime lord himself was sent flying, nearly faster than she could perceive. He blew through the office building's entire ground floor, smashing through wall after wall, until he came out the other side and finally was stopped by a cargo truck, denting it with a distinctly Kenta-shaped impression.

Brian managed to roll to a stop, standing back up. He nodded at Rachel, who seemed to take that as permission to go after Huolong (or something - since when did she listen to him?) as she turned her spectral wolf mount thing towards the dragon, who actually looked _dazed._ Taylor couldn't blame him. That was one _hell_ of a punch.

Brian ran over to her, face the very picture of concern.

"Are you alright? What the hell are you doing?"

Taylor blinked. What was she doing? What were _they_ doing?

"M'fine. You?" She was too tired to be irritated by her own non-sequitur. 

The Faunus frowned. "Look, we need to get you out of here. That guy means business. You okay to walk?"

Taylor managed a tired nod. Brian offered her a shoulder, hunching over slightly to do so, which Taylor didn't want to accept, but did anyway, eventually, bumping his horn in the process. Briefly, almost hysterically, she considered that she was almost literally a damsel in distress, being rescued from a dragon by a handsome... Faunus. Well, close enough, she supposed.

"Sorry," she mumbled.

"It's okay. Come on, this way."

As the partners slowly ( _too slowly)_ hobbled away from the scene, Taylor glanced over her shoulder, watching the battle between Rachel and Kenta play out.

Rachel was, in a way, acting out the role of a medieval jouster, though with a battleaxe instead of a lance and a Semblance ghost-wolf instead of a horse. She would race towards Kenta, take several swings and stabs at him as she passed, most of which he blocked with his claws, and then escape before he could retaliate.

It wasn't a bad strategy, in Taylor's opinion, but at the moment it was only working because Huolong was still dizzy from that megaton punch. Unfortunately, not only was he recovering at a frightening rate, but, if Taylor was guessing correctly, his Semblance would push his power level even higher than it was before.

After a very close call that nearly ended with her getting impaled, Rachel finally dismounted, her wolf circling around to flank the crime lord from behind. Kenta roared, and the Faunus girl responded with a crushing downward swing, which he had to block with both claws.

Another round from that mysterious sniper struck him in the back, causing him to keel forward, allowing Rachel to get another good thwack at him.

"Who's the sniper?" Taylor asked.

"Lisa, I think. She was really worried about you, you know. She's the reason we were out looking for you - I think Alec's with her right now, and yeah. Me and Rachel."

Taylor's brow furrowed. _She uses pistols, doesn't she?_

Huolong finally managed to get a solid thwack at Rachel's Semblance-mount, which was apparently enough to shred it into brown flecks of Aura. She flinched and he took advantage of that, grabbing by her battleaxe and hurling her at massive speed towards the pair of fleeing students. Fortunately, she managed to avoid slamming into them by slamming her blade into the ground, both digging a trench and very rapidly bleeding off speed, stopping right next to Taylor.

"This isn't working. Where are the fucking cops?" she snarled, Aura flickering slightly.

Kenta moved forward, but somehow tripped over nothing, slamming face-first into a pile of rubble. As if to add insult to injury, another sniper round slammed into the back of his head.

Brian grimaced, replying, "They won't be here for another five minutes at least. This is the very edge of the city. We're on our own."

"Then what's the plan?" Rachel demanded. 

"I'll go in, distract him, tank his blows," he quickly decided. "Taylor, you stay back, try to get clear. Rachel, you try to flank him, deal some damage whenever there's an opportunity."

Taylor wanted to object, but, yet again, Brian was right. That was a good, workable plan. There wasn't much she could do to contribute. She simply nodded, stepping back.

Rachel pulled her axe from the earth, simply advancing. Brian slammed his fists together, activating two of the Dust capsules located on his knuckles: the Ice Dust ones, apparently, as blocks of ice encased his fists, once again doubling their size. Kenta finally stood, slashing another sniper round out of the air with his claws.

Brian walked up to him directly, while Rachel started taking circling, looking for openings. The crime lord wasted no time in slashing at the two Faunus, immediately forcing them on the defensive, Rachel blocking the blows while Brian dodged them. Another sniper round struck him in the chest, but he ignored it, focusing on shredding the two opponents in front of him.

Taylor just sat back (figuratively) and watched, before another movement caught her eye: the Geist's bulldozer, slowly rising into the air.

_It's not dead? Was it faking?_

None of the combatants had noticed it, not yet, at least. It was slowly putting itself back together, its long clawed arms reaching out and repossessing the crane and truck it was using. Taylor was about to shout out, warn them, before a thought struck her.

 _That thing managed to give Kenta trouble. Brian and Rachel may be good, but I don't think they're good_ enough. _If that thing gets involved, though... Well, they'll be dead either way, but at least the Geist will be quick about it._

Meanwhile, Brian managed to attract the entirety of Kenta's attention, blocking his massive claw strikes with his ice-covered fists. Rachel managed to take the opportunity to fire the spear tip of her battleaxe, which looped around Kenta's arm, getting thoroughly stuck. Then she pulled, throwing him off balance, allowing Brian to punch him hard in the chest, shattering the ice around his fists.

Kenta responded by wrenching his arm forward, throwing Rachel, still gripping her battleaxe, along with it, sending her flying into a pile of rubble and causing her Aura to flicker, then slashing at Brian with his other arm. He couldn't dodge nor block fast enough, and took the attack right in the chest, sending him flying slightly back.

The Geist was reconstituting its legs out of bricks again and slowly moving towards the remaining pair of fighters. 

Brian had gone entirely on the defensive, which was barely keeping him alive - Huolong was simply moving too quickly, with too much strength behind each one of his blows, almost all of which were connecting to his opponent. His Aura levels, while massive, had to be dropping rapidly.

The Geist brought back its crane arm for a mighty swing.

"DUCK!" Taylor screamed.

She wasn't sure why, but Brian immediately hit the deck. Kenta did not.

As a result, the massive metal arm slammed into the crime lord’s head, knocking him aside like a massive masked ragdoll, sending him flying into another truck. Except this time, he didn't get up. The flames around him died, his red Aura shattered, and he lay still, unconscious.

 _Finally._ Taylor breathed a sigh of relief, felt tension drain out of her tired shoulders. That had taken altogether too much punishment, from all too many people, for far too much time. She almost felt accomplished for what little role she'd played in that whole fiasco.

That relief immediately evaporated when the Grimm turned towards the prone figure of Rachel, still struggling to get up from the rubble pile. They had simply traded one devil for a different one, and this new devil was the size of a fucking house. Were any of them equipped to fight it? Especially after the beating all of them had just taken? She certainly wasn't.

The Geist took a single tromping step...

...and then there was a long golden spear protruding from its eye, crackling with electricity.

Taylor blinked. _What the fuck? Where did_ that come from?

The Grimm staggered back, falling on its... rear, she supposed. It tried to get up, seemingly, before its mask simply disintegrated, black smoke rising from its 'joints' and the constituent parts falling still.

The construction site was silent, for a moment, aside from a barely audible "Fucker," from Rachel.

Brian sat down, wiping a glove through his sweat-soaked cornrows. Taylor slowly approached the former Grimm's corpse, taking a close look at the golden spear, still half-embedded in the steel of the bulldozer. It looked faintly familiar somehow; the butt especially. It was a round ball with a miniature crown atop it.

Actually, come to think of it, she remembered whose this was. The weapon belonged to -

"Hey, hands off the bling."

Alec entered the construction site, pushing open the half-chained gate, walking leisurely over towards her.

Behind him was Lisa, a silver and green sniper rifle in her hands. Her solemn expression turned into a smile the second she saw Taylor, and she started walking towards her, with purpose.

Taylor felt a twinge of guilt. She probably could've talked to her, asked her for advice, and she hadn't bothered to put in the effort.

Lisa maneuvered around the ruins of the Geist, walked right up to Taylor, slung her rifle across her back, and threw her arms around her. A hug.

"I'm so glad you're alright, but don't you _ever_ do that again, else I'll kick your ass. Got it?" On the surface, her voice sounded lighthearted, joking. Underneath, though, was a strange sort of frantic desperation. It lent her sincerity.

Taylor could've said any number of things: "I didn't have a choice", "I did what was right", "Who are you to judge me?".

Instead of those, she simply nodded, leaning in, awkwardly placing her own arms around the other girl.

After a solid moment, she eventually said, "Thanks for the help. I would have been toast without you."

"Nah, it's fine. We're your team. We've got your back."

Lisa finally withdrew her arms and Taylor did the same. That moment of awkwardness over, she turned her attention to something that had been bugging her the last couple of seconds.

"Do I hear sirens?"

Right on cue, an entire squad of police cars roared into the site, smashing through the gate like it wasn't even there, squealing to a stop around the ruins of the Geist. More than a dozen VPD officers exited the cars, training their pistols on the students. Taylor hesitantly raised her hands above her head, dropping Sting and Burn on the ground. The rest of them did the same, though Rachel needed a brief bit of prompting from Alec.

"Freeze!"

Brian smiled politely, if nervously, and said, "Thank you, officers. Um, we have... apprehended the criminal Kenta Huolong. And we are sorry about the collateral damage."

Behind them, the office building apparently decided that, despite all the punishment it had taken previously, _this_ was the best time to give up the ghost, and completely collapsed into a massive pile of bricks, glass, and steel. A plume of dust rose into the air, which Taylor imagined to smell like embarrassment. And maybe comedic timing.

"... _Really_ sorry."

* * *

Emily was well-aware that her officers disliked her.

That was fine. As long as they did their jobs, didn’t disobey her orders, they could hate her all they fucking liked. She was not trying to win any popularity contests here.

What she _was_ trying to do was serve people with what was left of her retirement. To protect civilians from criminals, to save lives, and, arguably most importantly, to make sure the VPD had enough budget to make that happen. After all, you couldn't stop a murderer if you couldn’t afford any bullets to shoot at him.

That wasn’t important right now. 

“Commissioner.”

Emily stood, sighed at the door.

“Come in.”

Colin Cobalt opened the door, then shut it behind him.

He looked about the same as when she last saw him. He wore a slightly armored bodysuit the color of his name. A similarly-colored helmet was on his head, a visor covering his eyes. Slung across his back was his signature weapon: the Halberd. Not _a_ halberd, as he occasionally corrected, _the_ Halberd. A well-trimmed brown beard covered his chin, his mouth set in a charismatic smile.

Emily was fairly certain he was trying to resemble the Huntsmen of the previous, overly glorified generation, the likes of the Grimm Reaper and the Eidolon. His heroic build, concealed visage, and seemingly simple weapon all pointed towards that. She disliked him for it, a little.

Still, she kept her expression neutral, professional. It wouldn’t do to irritate one of the top Huntsmen in the city. Particularly when that Huntsman worked at Beacon Academy.

“Colin. A pleasure.”

He inclined his head, his expression turning stoic, before stating, “Beacon extends its apologies for the mess our students have caused. We will be footing the bill for the various damages they have incurred, as well as for your mens’ time. I hope this suits your needs?”

Emily was silent, thinking about the situation.

“What we need,” she eventually said, “is more manpower. Tell me, do you understand what just happened last evening?”

Colin blinked, not entirely sure what answer she was looking for. “An infamous criminal was brought to justice and will be shipped to Atlas, to be stored in a maximum-security prison or executed,” he tried. Emily barely tried to hide her snort, nor the derision in her her voice.

“No. What happened is that a group of _teenagers_ took down the leader of the Dragon’s Claw, of the largest gangs of the city. A fighter supposedly so fierce, he fought the entire White Knight contingent to a standstill, by himself, and _still_ had enough juice in him to blow through an entire police blockade _._ ”

To his credit, Colin caught on quickly. “Ah. Without Huolong, they appear weak.”

“Precisely. And in this city - in _any_ city - that means every single other gang will be circling them like wolves, ready to _take_ anything they can - power, territory, tribute. Not to mention that the Claw, despite being almost entirely Mistralian, is still an extremely diverse group filled with petty, selfish, short-sighted people. Without the dragon’s fear factor, I suspect that the whole gang will fracture, becoming easy pickings for the Knights, the Fang, the Spiders, and whatever other fu- competitors crawl out of the woodwork.”

Emily pulled out her Scroll, opened the sharing application, and placed it on her desk. The hologram emitter activated, filling the center of the room with a large, flat, cyan hologram. Colin took a step back, allowing him to see the whole thing. A map of Vale.

She tapped another button, and large portions of the map changed color. The southern half colored red, the northern half became largely white. Small, seemingly random areas were marked with splotches of blue.

Emily almost knew this map by heart. She stood, walking into the hologram.

“This shows our rough approximation of territories held by the gangs. The two large portions, as you can probably tell-” she pointed to the white and red territories “-belong to the White Knights and Dragon’s Claw respectively. These blue areas are our best guesses as to where the White Fang are operating, based on precedent, new reports, etcetera.”

Said reports were frustratingly unreliable, as more than a few shop owners were apparently unable to tell the difference between rebellious Faunus vandals and murderous Faunus terrorists. Them lumping the two in together produced more than a few false positives, and the VNN just _loved_ jumping on anti-Faunus sob stories, regardless of their truth content.

Not to mention her own officers’ inherent biases, something she was quite aware of. Still, there wasn’t much she could do about it. If she fired all of the racist officers in the VPD, she’d have none left. Same for the corrupt ones.

“Those aren’t the only factions you mentioned,” Colin said, bringing her out of her musings. “How do they fit into the picture?”

“Ah, yes,” Emily said, regathering her thoughts.

“The Spiders are a largely Mistralian criminal network, though their tendrils extend throughout all of Remnant. Primarily buyers and sellers of information, though they do their fair share of illegal arms dealing and drug dealing. They claim to tattoo each of their members with a spiderweb, though I have my doubts.”

A couple of months ago, one of her officers had caught Rane, an otherwise splendid member of the force, selling their patrol routes to some whore, whom, after a short interrogation, had revealed herself to be a member of the aforementioned organization, despite her lack of spider tattoo. Truly a shame that she’d had to fire the man.

“Then, there’s the largely independent criminals that might decide they want a larger piece of the pie. The most infamous of those is probably Cirque Bouffon, but there are many others: Tattletale, Roman Torchwick, Faultline’s Crew… the list goes on.”

Emily shrugged. “As you can see, we in the VPD are a little outmatched here. And this is all going to get _worse_. With the fall of the Claw, there’ll be open warfare in the streets - I expect most of the trouble to come from the Knights, of course, but we’re going to be busy all over the city quelling conflicts, protecting civilians.”

She hated to admit this next part, but she didn’t have any choice.

_Here goes nothing._

“Frankly, we’re not up to the task. We only have so many men, and Vale is a large city. Not to mention that there’s more than a few individual criminals that could thrash the average cop without even trying. Huntsman-level threats. We can’t deal with those either.”

Emily hesitated before she continued, reluctance in every word. “If you Huntsmen could spare a team or two, that would be fantastic. We really do need all the help we can get.”

Colin stood there, stoically, for a moment or two, giving nothing away through the bottom half of his face that she could see.

At last, he spoke, giving no indication of his personal opinion on the idea: “That seems reasonable. Team SSRE (Shire) may be available, though I will obviously have to check with my colleagues. They should be more than up to dealing with any issues; I have worked with them quite thoroughly in the past."

Emily withheld a sigh of relief, thankful that her truthfulness hadn't been for naught. If the Huntsman had turned her down, she wasn't sure if she would be able to keep her temper.

"Additionally, we will be opening the mission boards to our second, third, and fourth-year Beacon students within the week. If you would like, we can add an option to work alongside your men in whatever capacity you wish. Does _that_ suit your needs?"

She had to admit, it _did_.

"Yes. It does. Thank you. Please give Ozpin my regards."

Colin nodded, smiling. "Will do. Good day, Commissioner."

With that, he exited her office, leaving Emily to her paperwork.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there we go. One Lung fight, one Piggot interlude, and now I'm done with chapter 10. Probably should’ve split this into two, but I was feeling inspired.
> 
> I'm going to compromise. This chapter isn't actually affected by the edits I plan to make and is likely to remain exactly the same, mainly just being a massive fight scene, as well as a couple of ramifications. However, the next chapter is very character-focused, and so I'll be finishing editing the previous chapters before I publish the next one. I hope this makes slightly more people happy than unhappy.
> 
> Thanks to Boldores and Boomsticks, written by Darwin Candidate, for the idea of using an unusual Geist.
> 
> Thanks to DaftChief (one of my readers and commenters on Spacebattles) for a large portion of the inspiration for this chapter. The idea to use Piggot at all came from them. I was originally going to use, like, a casual conversation between Colin and Hanna, but this is better, makes more sense.
> 
> Next chapter (which might be split into two) will be the end of Arc 1, and then we get to move into Arc 2: gang warfare, intrigue, and more fan-favorite Worm and RWBY characters. Uh, not Team RWBY itself though, sorry if that's what you were looking for.
> 
> Thank you all for reading, and welcome to 2021. Also please like and subscribe or whatever - actually, better than a like: leave a comment telling me what you thought of the fic, what needs to be better, what was better. I always read them, they're like 40% of the reason for writing this fic at all, and I could always use more feedback.


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